It’s exhausting isn’t it this democracy lark? We need a firm hand on the tiller, guiding us onwards into the brave new world that is the climate change scarred stinking wasteland that is our future. What are you looking so depressed for? You know the way the world is turning. Oh, cheer up little one, it’s not quite as bad as that.
Brussels has gone out of its way to set up coalition talks. Bright and shiny happy coalition talks to decide the fate of our tiny universe. They will go late into the night, with copious amounts of caffeine and take away food on hand. You’ve seen the films, I’m sure you’re well aware in regards to what to expect out of these things. Loosened ties, the wringing of hands, passionate shouting that definitely won’t lead to any sort of sexual contact over desks strewn with important looking documents.
And Brussels is going to sell out. For the price of some luxury chocolate to drizzle over their waffles and whatever else it is the Belgians are inordinately fond of (I will freely admit that I may not have carried out the appropriate and fulsome research before I settled down to write this thing but what are you going to do? Sue me for racial profiling and geographical inaccuracy? Please don’t) they’ll hand over whatever executive powers the other side are after.
And who exactly is it that will emerge victorious? Will the Germans resurrect their magnificent dreams of empire? Is sex pest extraordinaire Berlusconi finally making that bid for world domination? Your mind probably went straight to Putin or Kim Jong Un. Don’t be so very obvious. It’s always far more insidious than that. It’s the Icelanders. They’ve got ideas above their station, don’t ask me how, I haven’t the slightest remotest clue, and now their campaign for glory has begun.