The Saga of Cumalot

The Saga of Cumalot.

Part 1

And it came to pass that the old queen having lost, mislaid, and misplaced the support of the Cumalot council of her Peers abdicated in favour of a quiet life at the back of the back of the benches.

Many there were who fought for the crown. Among them Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’, Michael the Unruffled, Sajid the Hairless, Rory the Urbane and Jeremy the ‘I feel naked without a badge in my lapel’.

The contest went back and forth but, after many trials and by many immoral combat, the last man standing was Boris ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’. To say that this was the result of a lifetime’s ambition is an understatement – a concept with which, hitherto, Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’ has never been acquainted.

Thus it was that Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’, along with his faithful and loyal (sic) special friend Spermin the Destroyer, became the undisputed power of, well, at least half the population of Cumalot.

Bathing in the glow of his success Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’ first decision was to rush pell mell to share his good fortune with his latest squeeze, Carrie the Undecided. Such was Carrie’s appreciation of this great good fortune for everybody that her first words to her beloved were,

 “Now can we have a puppy”.

 How sweet!

Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’ smiled indulgently and thought,

 “She’s got no idea”, but said,

 “Of course my dear. Now I really must go, I have a council to select so that Spermin and I can move to gain the biggest prize of all”.

 ‘”You don’t mean…” said Carrie the Undecided.

 “Yes, I do, the Holy Pail of Shit known as Brexit”

Carrie gasps and he was gone.

Upon his return to Court, Spermin siddled up to him Gollum like and sneeringly said,

 “Welcome back Master – while you were away I’ve thought of some common fodder that might be useful in your quest for the Holy Pail of Shit known as Brexit”.

King Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’ gazed lovingly at the strange little fellow and said “What would I do without you Spermin, you are my right hand pleasing myself – you give me such a high!”.

“ Oh Master”, Spermin’ replied teasingly.

“Well, you may not have gone to the Bullingdon School of Anarchy but you’re a fine fellow for all that. Now, what have you got for me”.

“Well Master, all MP’s apart from your most righteous self are less that fucking useless…”

 King Boris the ‘My Johnson is never sheathed’ blushes with pleasure – not a pretty sight

“ …but I have some who will prostrate themselves before you and with only your blessing to sustain their fractured egos will follow you to the ends of the world or the cliff edge whichever comes soonest”

To be continued…