In the year of our Lord 2012 a pestilence descended upon the land fanned by the flames of wrath from a malevolent dragon named Recession.
As the green shoots of recovery burst forth Recession returned inflicting more hardship and fear (and causing property values to slump).
King David promised salvation dispatching his faithful servant St George of Osborne to Cheshire.
"Fear not," sayeth St George. "There shall be no double-dip for I shall slay this dragon named Recession."
"Pray tell us how you will do this," shouted the multitude.
"By denying the dragon much of his power. Already we have increased employment and decreased immigration"
"I’ll think you’ll find it’s the other way around, Sire," said his batman.
"T’is of no consequence," sayeth St George.
"But some people will never have a job."
"Well, I’ve never had one."
"But, Sire, thou art a nobleman who has not sullied they hands with work."
"Nonsense, wasn’t it I who sent my Inland Revenue inspectors to extract non payment from investment bankers."
"As I recall, Sire, they all went to a fancy restaurant, had a jolly good free dinner then let everyone off."
Then St George did address the multitude saying: "People of Cheshire, victory is with us, Recession is dead or is it the other way round. I can never quite remember?"
And the people chanted," Recession is at the gate, Recession is at the gate."
St George swung into action (like a Krankie) calling upon his army to join him in battle.
But his regiments, who were marching through Poynton, were mired deep in road works and unable to make progress.
"Then I shall call upon Cheshire East Council to assist me," yelled St George and how the people did laugh for it was four score months and 10 since anyone had passed through Poynton without hindrance.
Many perished in the attempt while others simply vanished at the roundabout never to be seen again.
"Orange people," yelled St George (for he was in Wilmslow). "Doubt me not for experience teaches me well."
"And where would thou have gained such economic expertise," boomed the crowd, "in the tuck shop at Eton?
"Fear not, the EU will come to our rescue."
"Would that be the organisation so corrupt that no auditor will sign their accounts?" asked the crowd. "Or the one in economic meltdown?"
"The very same," answered St George.
"Ref…er…end…um. Ref…er…end…um. Ref…er…end…um," came the call.
Changing the subject rapidly St George spotted customers sipping coffee seated outside a café and demanded to see their licence for it was a capital offence for proprietors to flourish.
"We are all in this together," shouted St George.
"Oh no we’re not," yelled the crowd.
"Oh yes we are,"
And the crowd responded – for it was panto season.
"The price of failure is death," screamed St George. "Unless you’re a senior civil servant where the death sentence shall be commuted by a move to another department."
Then from the balcony of the town hall a vision appeared waving her (enormous) salary cheque for it was the Queen of Cheshire East.
"I…the government of Cheshire, have decreed that parking charges will be doubled during this difficult trading period when so many of you will be losing your jobs. It’s the least one can do to alleviate your suffering.
"Now be off with you and let there be no further strikes."
"Are there no brave councillors in this government?" asked St George.
"There were, Sire, but the Queen had them fired lest they question her judgement. Better the nodding dog you know…’
Without re-enforcements or bold council, Recession ran amok leaving huge bills at every door for such watchdogs as they were had all been muzzled.
Those who balked at the eight-fold increase in gas and electricity tariffs were put to sleep.
Big business prospered while families took the full brunt of the dragon’s fury.
City bankers however remained to extract multi-million in bonuses from struggling enterprises funded by taxpayers.
King David deemed this necessary to prevent failed bankers moving overseas and ruining banks around the globe, a piece of strategy so craftily constructed it flew beneath the understanding of mere mortals.
St George huffed and he puffed but could not slay the dragon of Recession.
"Then we shall sell Cheshire, " ordered King David.
"To whom?" asked St George.
"I don’t know do I? I’ve never had a job either. I know not how these deals work.
"Sell it down the river for all I care."
And so it came to pass that we were all sold down the river and St George was recalled, for his absence was depriving some village of an idiot.
It is a matter of historical fact that the land we now call Tescoshire was once the proud county of Cheshire where orange hordes once roamed and footballers unable to button up their own pants laid waste to historical homes.
