Worse Than Its Bite

And so it seems that the saga of Phydoh Cars(1) is finally coming to an end, with confirmation today of the final breakdown(2) of talks aimed at saving Albia's last significant native car manufacturer. It is truly sad to see this company pass: it had an almost seventy-year history of making marvellous vehicles, though this was - admittedly - followed by some thirty years of making dreadful ones(3). It seems almost certain now that the company will be broken down into its separate components (something which Phydoh cars frequently did whilst, say, negotiating the tricky journey from the front drive onto the road) and sold for scrap (again, an experience not unfamiliar to Phydoh), a fate which I am sure will leave the men from the Kymera Consortium who have been managing the company over the past few years weeping into their Bollingers as they float in their Olympic-sized swimming pools.

The news has undoubtedly cast something of a pall over the election campaign. Thankfully, if we are to believe the papers, we have the humorous antics of Drid Party leader Yin Flok to entertain us. I realise that Mr Flok's performance at yesterday's manifesto launch may have been somewhat less than stellar (a fair description I feel, given that he fell asleep halfway through his own speech and - when reawoken - tried to claim the party's flagship tax policy is to "y'know ... do that thing we said ... with the doobrey ... about 25% ... that's right, no ice, I wouldn't want to drown it") but I must say I feel that descriptions of him in this morning's Albian press as a "bumbling clown who would struggle to fight off a head cold let alone an election" are a little unfair. There are certainly good reasons for Mr Flok's poor performance. For one thing his wife has only just given birth to a bouncing son, and Mr Flok did seem to be exhibiting all the signs of a sleepless night watching the baby(4). And then of course there is the fact that it seems a little unfair to ask Mr Flok to remember his party's policies when nobody else can be bothered so to do.

(1) Further details of which are contained in Dog Day Afternoon and Barking Up The Wrong Tree.
(2) Sadly an appropriate term given the company being discussed.
(3) I should note that this remark is not made from personal experience - being a patriotic Brit there is only one vehicle for me, namely a Nissan.
(4) something I, of course, have to look forward to myself (see Wedded Bliss, On The Mend and Good News Everybody!)(5).
(5) Although, given the state of my camp bed(6), I must confess that I am already no stranger to the sleepless night.
(6) My dear wife Ylatea, even whilst staying with her family in Frelsveorthig, still insists that I refrain from using the marital bed. Doubtless she feels that its deeply-padded, multi-spring, individually-pocketed design would be bad for my back.