Wednesday, 3 April 2013

Real Talk: Germany's Getting Scary Again...

Germany's blatant economic success has created much controversy around Europe over recent years as they. have reversed the global financial trend successfully and managed to keep the stain of recession out of their cheerful lederhosen and tears out of their steins. From what I have gathered, their contribution to the European financial situation is set to be of a massive profit to them. A great example of this is the current Cyprus debacle. Europe should seriously be considering the way they think about their recession and about whether to get back into bed with Germany, because they are always the big spoon.

We should  send our best man to investigate this questionable situation. Which other nation is known for espionage as well as the British. Suave, sophisticated and humble men of culture, one of which is so cultured, in fact, they have a specific preference of the way they take their Martini.  No, it's not James Bond, he is a man of fiction, oh foolish reader. This man doesn't have his Martini 'shaken not stirred', but by the bottle with a few liberal doses of Goldschlager. We should send a man so illusive that no-one will expect him to ever be shrouded in mystery. A man whose very name no longer brings an image to ones mind. A man so indifferent, he is practically devoid of personality whatsoever. A man so nonchalant, he doesn't only slip under the radar anymore, he slips past the retina. A bit like a borish, private school ninja. This man is none other than Nick Clegg: the future of British intelligence.

An artist's impression of Merkel's abde
(in the Summertime)
Fearless, Clegg will march sure-footedly up the steep, stone steps leading to the giant villainous castle where Angel Merkel is said to reside. With a steady arm he will lift the door-knocker - fashioned from hefty receipts and forgotten dreams - and let it fall. The result is a collosal crash. The percussive roar is enough to shake the foundations of the building. To any other man this would seem daunting, but to Clegg...mere child's play.

The hallway is lined with screens displaying the World's Stock Exchange figures and projections of future predictions of the world's marketplace, where Germany shines through glorious by the year 2021. The end of the hallway is framed by a gigantic tapestry woven the finest thread and silks. It depicts Merkel herself sharing expensive sherry with Elton John and, presumably, the economical impression of a deity; an over-ripe and pious owl holding a calculator (displaying assortment of monetary symbols) in one wing and a miserable looking Mediterranean child under the other.

A few hours pass and Merkel, accompanied by her fearsome sidekick, Michael Greco (Beppe from Eastenders - yes, this is where he disappeared to), have attempted to scare our Nick into fits of hysterics with fearsome phrophecies and tales from the not-so-far future. Tales such as, by 2017, a 9 year old German girl's weekly allowance, given by stringent parents, will equate to the entire life earnings of an upper-middle class, Portuguese family working as highly respected lawyers in the general region of Madeira. To any ordinary man, these tales of the future would be enough to send them into spirals of insanity and lead to an inevitable loss of control over all bodily functions. But not Clegg. He is still grinning like a kleptomaniac who comes across an abandoned auction house.

Clegg leaves the mansion, unphased, and with everything he needs to file his report; absolutely nothing, because he doesn't really exist. He has the same impact on world politics as Vicky Pollard's sex tape would have on the pornography industry. Nothing.


Note: I am proud that I wrote this without even one mention of 'He-who-must-not-be-named'. A Harry Potter reference, however, simply could not be contained.

Extra note: 'He-who-must-not-be-named' is Hitler. Yeah, there is the Nazi reference. Greatest apologies.

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