Is this the real life, or is this just fantasy? I’m not sure, but it’s a foolish MP who rudely mocks his constituent, and worse still if it’s a pensioner about her failing bin collection!
I was a pig with a dream on a cold February morning in rainy Manchester when the by-election was called. The stage was set and open to everyone, communists, libertarian, fanatics and loonys.
I took up the gauntlet and the message that I ‘was in’ was dispatched to the returning officer. I was looking for nominations but Farming Dave was away on holiday, he suggested ‘The Jolly Hatters’ in Haughton Green with his friend Andy to help. In a long enjoyable Saturday session nominee after nominee came up to sign our hallowed electoral register. The ales flowed and within a few hours we collected all ten signatures.
The following Monday, Nick the Flying Brick entered the fray as my political agent. He accompanied me to the chambers of Manchester Council to submit the Loony candidacy. We were met by the very amiable returning officer Tony Jefferson, who helped sign, seal and stamp our application. The job was done.
There was a tsunami of press requests: BBC, Tameside Reporter, Manchester Evening News, Radio Alty. I was like Canute against the tide as they just kept coming.
There was Gorton Market with Kevin from the BBC, Tameside Gazette asking about HMO’s. And who can forget the fruitful natter with Peter and Steve over at Radio Alty!
Finally the night was upon us. The banjoed sweats had subsided and the stage was set. Loony luminaries arrived from all over, Baron von Thunderclap, Psychobilly Tractor, Ravin’ Rodent, Nick the Flying Brick, Farmin’ Dave, Andy from the pub, and my fellow Loony inductees Johnny Disco and Lord Andy Cam of the Roundwood.
We met at the copper tabled ‘Britons Protection’, named after its drafting origins during the Napoleonic War. Ales were quaffed, passes were passed, and laughs were had by all.
After many hours of merriment, cometh the hour, cometh the pig. A short trot to the GMEX and we were met by battalions of media. After a security check we rounded the bend into a thermopylae wall of cameras. Yet we were honed, ready, and outright Loony for the baptism of flashes. Our points were drawn with Psychobilly Tractor heralding the charge and my own waving gesture of ‘come on’ doing little to quench the insatiable thirst of the press.
The count began, with the first wave of ballots causing concern as we only saw red, green & turquoise. Then the first shoots of endorsement, and another, and soon we saw different wards on different tables with the big three plus us! Something was happening. The other fringes just didn’t seem to have traction. Before we knew it we were in a plentiful garden of loonyism.
The returning officer beckoned me and Nick the Flying Brick to hear the results. I was up first, due to my position on the ballot paper, with 159, then there was ‘Advance UK’ with 154. Then one after the other they fell: SDP, Libertarian, Rejoin EU, Communist.
After hailing a taxi for Baron Von Thunderclap and Nick the Brick, I bungled into Maccy D’s for a celebratory sausage and egg McMuffin with Johnny Disco and Lord Cam.
From a cold February morning in rainy Manchester to 6th place and beating every small party, the spirit of Bootle lives on. One pig, one dream, one hell of a ride.
‘Think big. Vote pig’
Sir Oink A-Lot (The Apache of Gorton and Scalp-Taker of the Fringe Wars)