Once upon a time – not long ago or far away – lived twenty-five political elves and a handsome (more of a frog really – but for the sake of the story, handsome) Mayor. And they lived in a beautiful glass palace, designed by the most famous architect in the land, which stood glistening on the banks of Old River Thames.
And everyone in the land loved The Mayor and his elves.
The people had believed that when the Mayor came to power he would bring light and goodness to their darkened and difficult land. They believed that he would solve the problems that beset them as they tried their hardest to survive against the grinding, bleak reality of their daily life. The streets were dark and dangerous. Vicious criminals lurked in corners waiting to pounce on unsuspecting victims. The streets were filthy. Travel was well nigh impossible – particularly underground, where human beings were packed like cattle being taken to market. Life was grim in old London Town.
At the same time, there was another force in the land. This was an even more powerful force – which ruled over many lands with an iron grip, controlling everything that went on in every single household in the land. This ruling council was led by a strong-willed young prince who would not listen to his advisors or his people.
Years before, the Mayor had been a member of this ruling council – but they had cast him out as a traitor and a villain. The Mayor was sad. He felt friendless and alone and wanted so desperately to be back in the fold that he would do anything they demanded of him. He even let them take away all the wealth from his people and use it for their own diabolical ends in far flung regions of the North.
As the snow fell on Christmas Eve, a great darkness swept through the Mayor’s domain and a great silence fell on the City. Everything stopped. The people were afraid, for they did not know what had happened. They could not see. They could not get home to their families for their Xmas Eve cheer. It was cold and dark. In their hour of need – they cried out to the Mayor, "Save us! Save us!" But where was the Mayor?
The Mayor was nowhere to be found. "The Mayor is missing": the cry went out across the snowy landscape. The twenty-five political elves, who nobody took much notice of as a rule, held an emergency meeting to decide what should be done in his absence. But they couldn’t agree amongst themselves.
The little red elves all did as they were told by the ruling council. The little blue elves didn’t want to find him anyway. The little green elves didn’t even turn up to the meeting. And the golden elves flew all across the land delivering leaflets asking people if they’d seen the Mayor.
But where was the Mayor? Well, a sad fate had befallen him. He had turned to solid ice on the steps of a very nice house at 10 Downing Street, London – where he had been knocking for many hours begging to be let in. In fact, as a reminder to future Mayors who failed to be there for their citizens, he was placed on a vacant plinth in Trafalgar Square for all to see.
And the people, in their hour of need, came out onto the streets in their thousands, and turned to each other for comfort and warmth – and as they did so, they joined hands and a great force was created that breathed life into the City. And the lights shone out. And there was much rejoicing in the land as the old order died. And peace and good will and prosperity returned to the people.
And I’m the Christmas Fairy!
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year.
