Last week, David Macaroon, the incumbent Mayor of Badgertown held a fundraising Gala.
In a bid to raise money for the upcoming council elections, he auctioned a host of items.
'Whatever possessed the King of the Badgers to agree to host this dinner?' I remarked to the Old Monkey 'Surely, he is not supposed to show political bias?'
'Unfortunately, Sir, as you know, the King of the Badgers is always short of cash. Mister Cameroon has promised him a job on the planning commitee.'
'And what is Mig, my Chef, doing cooking for these arrivistes, without my permission?'
'I did check, Sir, and I am afraid it is his day off.'
'We let him have those?'
'I am afraid so, Sir.'
'I am astounded!' I declared, 'Why would the Badfort Crowd ever agree to this?'
'Well, Sir, I have it on good authority that Mister Cameroon thought that he was getting a good deal when they said they would only charge a penny per person and lay on a big feast of Scob Fish. But Mister Hateman is charging a shilling a head to the Badfort folk for the opportunity to throw Duck bombs at them. Should I warn Mister Cameroon?'
'Normally,' I pondered, 'I would say that it is our duty to warn people of the potential nefarious activities of the Badfort Crowd. But perhaps, in this instance, it is the chance for these Gala-goers to learn a salutary lesson.'
'I fear the winner of this auction may be somewhat disappointed. I find Mister Smeare's daubings a bit of an aquired taste.'
'Yes,' replied the Old Monkey 'His paintings never seem to capture your grandeur, Sir.'
'How dare they!' I exploded 'I never gave them permission to borrow my traction engine!'
'It isn't actually, Sir. Apparently it's a dirty old traction engine borrowed from Butterskin Mute and painted gold.'
'But that's fraud! They are claiming it is mine!'
'It seems they don't mind turning a blind eye to a bit of fraud, Sir. Providing it is done by the right people.'
