Brexit: Actions Have Consequences

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  1. #1

    Brexit: Actions Have Consequences

    Brexit: Actions Have Consequences

    The British Prime Minister stepped into the spotlight and up to the lectern, it had a large cluster of microphones, hedge-like across the front. He gripped the edges, making white knuckles. Ignoring the slight drizzle he smiled widely and nodded to the crowd of reporters. “Good evening,” he said. “After two days of full and frank negotiations we have reached a new understanding with our European friends. As of midnight GMT tonight the UK is leaving the EU. This is what you voted for and what I promised to deliver.” Click…



    Tony looked put the TV remote down and looked at his wife. “I never thought it would happen.”



    "It had to dear, the country is fed up with a load of Eurocrats ruining our lives.”



    Ivan Cherrokov was in mid-forkful when the waiter put the phone down in-front of him. As his twenty-seven guests watched on he picked it up. The voice of his brother bellowed into his ear, “Ivan, they went and did it.”



    "Just a moment.” Ivan put the phone down and pushed the speaker-phone button. “We can all hear now.”



    "They did it. A No-deal Brexit as from midnight.” The voice in the luxury yacht's dinning saloon rang clear into the silence. Then the rustling of clothing as twenty- seven phones were reached for. The money and stock markets were being hammered silently by algorithms and the GBP was rocketing downwards.



    Ivan stood up, raised his glass. “Ladies and gentlemen, I give you a toast. To Nigel, the best Prime Minister money can buy.”


    The dawn chorus woke Tony. He listened for ten minutes and then levered himself out of bed: Bathroom, coffee, radio. Rioting in Hammersmith and Toxteth. Run on the Pound. More shops closing. Should have stuck to the birds. Tea for Madge.



    He pulled back the bedroom curtains. “Doctor’s appointment this morning love.”


    "As if I’d forget. You back by five?”



    "Yep. Japanese coach party today, looking forward to a bit of practice.”



    London traffic had been just as bad as usual. The coach had pulled up at the Buck House drop off point. Tony put his guide cap straight and stepped down. He helped the sprightly passengers off and armed with a yellow parasol he manoeuvred the forty-two tourists into the correct doorway and handed over the entrance docket.



    Tony loved the Japanese. So polite, so smart, so engaged. The Royal tour guide was on form and everything kept to schedule. They left the gift shop bang on time and the coach was in sight but still in traffic, not yet on the embarkation spot. A group of about ten, young men got out of a minibus.



    "Eye eye, a bunch of Nips!” Called one particularly tattooed individual.


    Later on the news reported the fracas. Ten members of the National Front were hospitalised after tangling with the Kawasaki Pensioners Karate club.


    It had been a long day. Tony had spent far too long in the police station. He had been practising his Japanese but it wasn’t up to dealing with this situation. Fortunately the Japanese embassy was. After the tourists were released back to their hotel, Tony wended his way home.



    Tony sipped his cup of tea. “How’d the doctors go?”


    "Not so bad. More pills and another blood test.”



    "Blimey, you got any blood left to test?”



    "Cheek! I’m going to cut down on your Yorkshire pud for that.”



    "Huh. I am phoning a helpline for battered husbands.”



    "More like not battered enough husbands.”



    "Yeah, Well. I couldn’t afford the call charges anyway.”



    The lights went out. “That,” said Madge, “is the third time today.”


    "Oh… Anything on the radio?”



    "Dunno. Nothing on the TV.”



    Tony used a torch and found the kitchen radio. LBC news had just started. ‘Rolling blackouts across the country. Long tailbacks near Dover and other ports. Very few planes flying. More rioting. Pound down even further.’ What the hell was going on?



    Sir Jonathan de Suza, pushed the mute button on his TV as Bernard entered his office with a thick file under one arm. “I have your interim report minister.”



    "I’ll read it later, just explain the high-spots.”



    "It all stems from the fall of the Pound. The Bank of England has just let it run, there is nothing they can do against this volume of market manipulation. We have also ended all the agreements we had with the EU zone for supplying us with electricity. We have rolling blackouts. The software for dealing with imports and exports is no longer applicable and its replacement has yet to be ordered, let alone tested and installed and debugged. The power-cuts have crashed most of the internet as well as the mobile phone and Civil Service networks. Vehicles are backed up at every border crossing. Planes are grounded because the cost of fuel has gone up. No-one can get money out of the cashpoints. Food and other supplies are rapidly dwindling. Racist incidents are proliferating on the back of criminally irresponsible rumours. All this in less than twenty-four hours of freedom.”



    "What about the army and police planning?”



    "All emergency services are trying to implement their emergency response plans. All the armed forces are on standby. We can have a curfew in place almost immediately.”



    "Good. All I need now is a call from our illustrious Prime Minister.”



    "I have taken the liberty of sending a car for your family sir, they can be inside the House in twenty minutes.”



    "My God… Do you think it will be that bad?”



    Bernard was silent for a moment. “No… But prudence is never out of fashion.”



    Daily Bugle headline: Anyone seen the Prime Minister?

    There was a loud explosion which made the house reverberate. Tony was out of bed and at the window. The petrol station down the road was on fire. Small figures seemed to be fighting in the fire lit street. What the hell? Two lorries and a tank turned into the street. Soldiers piled out. A fire engine joined them. Madge slipped an arm round his waist. “What’s happening?”


    "I have no idea. Is there any fresh batteries for the radio?”



    "You used the last.”



    "Damn. Must get some in the morning.”



    There came a thumping noise at the front door. “Don’t open it,” said Madge.



    Tony pushed the window up and leaned out. A man held up another in their tiny front garden. “Who’s that?”



    "Bill Crocker, from the petrol station. I have old Patel with me, he’s really hurt.”



    "Okay. Be there in a minute.”



    Old Patel was bleeding badly from a scalp wound. As they made him comfortable on the sofa Madge asked, “what is going on?”



    "The crazies are out. When the petrol station put fuel up to twenty-nine quid a litre old Patel here got the blame. There are rumours that all foreigners are hoarding food and medicines and are waiting to take over when all the white people are too ill to fight back. It’s like someone opened the gates of Hell.”



    The front door rattled. Tony took a look. Someone was squirting lighter-fluid through the letterbox. He threw the water in the vase of flowers from the living-room over the burning rag that was pushed through next.



    "This is no good, we need to get to safety,” said Tony.



    "Saint Luke’s?” asked Madge.



    "Will they let me in?” asked Tony.



    "Of course they will, you are an atheist not the Antichrist,” said Madge.



    "Looks like everything has gone to hell anyway,” said Bill.



    "Front or back door?” asked Tony.



    They got as far as the end of the road before they were detained and pushed, not unkindly, into the back of an army lorry. They sat in the dark on the uncomfortable lorry bed with about twenty other people. Someone was praying.



    "What,” asked Madge, “is going on?”



    Tony had his heroic moment, he bit back his reply. ‘You should know, you voted for this,’ never passed his lips.



    Bernard paused before the door, Sir Jonathan was not going to like this. He was going to be sarcastic. It would also mean the end of his career, his self respect and probably his freedom. Poor bloody bastard. He knocked and entered.



    "Yes?”



    "Minister… we have made a comprehensive search but are unable to find the Prime Minister, or anyone else.”


    "You mean I am the senior member of parliament left?”



    "Yes minister. And I have a communication from General Abbot. He is requesting permission to use live ammunition.”



    Jonathan rubbed his temples. “Oh hell. Yes, hand it over and I’ll sign.”



    Claude swung away from the massive screen and looked at the shocked faces. Each member received the question via an earbug in their own language. “Well, what do we do?”



    Larrs held up his hand, Claude nodded.



    "We can either watch them destroy each other or we can try to intervene and become the next lot of invaders.”



    The End

    Note
    This is a work of fiction. A ‘no deal Brexit’ extreme take on ‘operation fear.’ There are a few facts buried in it: The GBP will dive steeply. All imports will become very expensive. The border infrastructure is years, possibly decades, away from being ready. We buy power from the EU and Russia, when we cannot afford to pay for it the lack of power will cause blackouts. The banking system will struggle to cope, businesses will have delays on bills being paid and workers will have delays to their wages. The rumour mill grinds on and the racist lies are deeply embedded in the UK psyche.



    It is not possible to take the UK back to the good old days, it is possible to ruin the future by trying to do so.
    May your God go with you.

  2. #2
    "I have no idea. Is there any fresh batteries for the radio?”
    Singular plural mix.

    I think most people recognise Kawasaki as motorcycle brand, and it is the family name of the founder, maybe pick a real place like Osaka or Hiroshima?

    I am sure that the desire to do business and keep making money will moderate Brexit. I can't really see it reaching social breakdown and invasion.
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  3. #3
    A nice read Bazz :} I enjoyed the drama and the conclusion.

    Man has a desire to make things worse than what they really are. I think I have heard about the end of the world coming many times during my life, it takes on many forms, always playing to current fears of the day. Your piece did a good job of capturing that human desire, all that was missing was zombies and global warming
    God hates a coward Revelation 21:8

    “Good writin' ain't necessarily good readin'.”

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  4. #4
    I felt that your piece contained the fears of a whole generation, if not beyond, of people. You managed to encapsulate this through your sharp depiction of a hellish scenario while keeping the realism tight and ringing to the borders of truth. I quite liked this piece, I've read it twice, and I'd like to offer you a pat on the back for a job well done. Writing, in my humble opinion, should bring out people's world's, truths, opinions, feelings, and nightmares. You've detailed that here- good work!
    “As far as we can discern, the sole purpose of human existence is to kindle a light of meaning in the darkness of mere being,"

    -Carl Jung

  5. #5
    Hi Olly, thanks for reading. Good catch on the sing/plu mix. I have a mind to leave it, it has a useful voice modifier effect that makes the speech patterns seem more realistic. Kawasaki is a place, sort of. But I was thinking of all those Japanese retirees that head for London. My scenario is as bogus as can be... It would never pass in parliament. Despite all the hot air.
    Quote Originally Posted by Olly Buckle View Post
    Singular plural mix.

    I think most people recognise Kawasaki as motorcycle brand, and it is the family name of the founder, maybe pick a real place like Osaka or Hiroshima?

    I am sure that the desire to do business and keep making money will moderate Brexit. I can't really see it reaching social breakdown and invasion.
    Hi Bob, thanks for reading. The end of the world, caused by a lie. I kinda tried to channel HG Wells and his War of the Worlds ambience. Where normal slides into terror as told in a blandish voice. The end was where I started, getting to it was a trick.
    Quote Originally Posted by Plasticweld View Post
    A nice read Bazz :} I enjoyed the drama and the conclusion.

    Man has a desire to make things worse than what they really are. I think I have heard about the end of the world coming many times during my life, it takes on many forms, always playing to current fears of the day. Your piece did a good job of capturing that human desire, all that was missing was zombies and global warming
    Hi Dan, I,m still, and will always be, figuring out where enough detail is enough. This could easily become a novel but then lose the intention behind it. The odd thing is, you get very little information about the characters, I think that lets the reader bring their own selves to the parts.
    Quote Originally Posted by Bard_Daniel View Post
    I felt that your piece contained the fears of a whole generation, if not beyond, of people. You managed to encapsulate this through your sharp depiction of a hellish scenario while keeping the realism tight and ringing to the borders of truth. I quite liked this piece, I've read it twice, and I'd like to offer you a pat on the back for a job well done. Writing, in my humble opinion, should bring out people's world's, truths, opinions, feelings, and nightmares. You've detailed that here- good work!
    Your input is very much appreciated. Thank you

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