Once upon a time…

Once upon a time in a truly blessed land, money flowed like a stream of honey from the heavens. For this was a very special land - far more sacred and exalted than any other. While people in other lands had to work hard and save their few pennies, the people of this chosen place never had to worry about such earthly concerns; it had been written in the stars - the more money they spent, the more would magically reappear. Then one day, the unspeakable happened - the pennies all disappeared. But the only ones that actually realised this were the commoners, and try as they might, they simply could not convince the king that this was so. So the king and all his princes carried on as before and concluded that the people must be deranged. As the fairer sex of this land were generally regarded as being the devil incarnate, not too many of them had the honour of ruling with this mighty king. A few select women were bestowed the title of princess and duly served alongside their lord and master. Now, it mattered not if these princesses were any good at their appointed job, as long as they were faithful to their king - for keeping this royal family in power was of the utmost importance. After months of hearing a strange murmuring sound outside the palace walls, the king asked his advisor what the devil was going on, only to be told that the people had become a tad displeased with the general state of affairs and were begging the king to arise from his beefy buttocks and do something. But the king was most perplexed. "Why on earth would they think such fanciful thoughts? Do they actually think I am a w, wan…what the blazes is that word? That's it, a worker. Oh, my most trusted advisor, you are so amusing. I think I will keep you for ever and ever." As the noise intensified, the king grew impatient and enquired of his advisor, 'Why do the people not adore me as they did my predecessor, Queen Gertie? She could do no wrong; she never worked one day of her reign and still the people were entirely besotted with her. It simply must have been her smile; wasn't she the prettiest thing you ever laid eyes on? Or perhaps it was the way she showered them all with gifts. Oh, if only they would love me as they did her." "Eh, your Highness," replied the advisor, "that was not a woman." "Don't be such a goose," laughed the king, "for did she not have her very own lady-in-waiting who painted her face with the most expensive make-up and dressed her in the most exquisite costumes every day? And how lady-like and sweet of her to step down and hand me her crown so I, too, could know such love and affection! Now, no more of this idle chit-chat; come, let's away to the sumptuous banquet that awaits us." Meanwhile, one of the king's favourite princes, who was in charge of transportation, was similarly oblivious to the dissent surrounding him. You see, Prince Noel, much venerated in his native Meath for making a pass to free the long-suffering natives from this lovely but frustratingly marooned county, decided to embark on an epic journey to grace the people of the far-off land of Donegal with his words of wisdom. As he was such a busy man (did I mention he was also on a top secret mission to a neighbouring kingdom?), Prince Noel had no option but to take the speediest, most expensive form of transport on this jaunt. As the prince flew over his native area, he looked down upon his adoring subjects and declared that they must indeed love him as they were all waving at him. "I fear those are fists they are shaking at us," offered his companion. "Don't be silly now," replied the prince, "you know how enamoured of me they are. Don't you see how they turn out in their droves to worship me functions every week? They all clamour to shake my hand and bask in my presence. Besides, I have promised them a railway track from Navan to Dublin, so that will pacify them for a while." Alas, there was truth in Prince Noel's words, for even though the people were all destitute and angrily denounced the royal family in private, none of them was brave enough to actually overthrow this dynasty. Even if they did choose to boot them out, what other choice did the bewildered people have? For the only other options were dreadfully depressing: An alternative royal family did have some worthy members, but their leader was not liked by the people - they say it was his accent. There was one man favoured over all the other leaders, but his party had consistently failed to impress. The only other option was a group, the mere mention of which made the blood boil. They called themselves 'The Greens', but they changed their colours so often to ensure their survival that, in the end, they were more on a par with chameleons than leaders. Eventually, the noise outside the palace walls ceased, for it was all futile. The people resigned themselves to either leaving their native shore or remaining and working day and night to keep their royals in the lifestyle to which they had become outrageously accustomed.