AMP: Artists' Meeting Place and Resource Collective

WARNING: This novel contained fake Welsh.
The Cardiff Grandma: Epilogue

In the deceptively wood paneled office of the joint chiefs of the local Indian Nation’s, Wolfcastle and Ddwwchllyf (that’s Ddwwchllyf not Ddwwchlyff) sat pensively. They awaited the arrival of the reason for their being there. Slowly a large oak door creaked open and a bold figure strode through. In an instant both men rose from their chairs and stood upright. They’d stood for something once. Now they stood for the something once more. ‘At ease men. As you were,’ the figure spoke. The two friends slowly returned to their respective positions.

‘Men,’ he said, ’Thank you for coming. I know that for you to get here has taken a lot of courage, a lot of determination, a lot of chapters and quite a lot of misleading plot twists. Sorry about all that but these days we never know who to trust. Except of course we know we can’t trust anyone. Everyone could be a spy for all we know and we’d never know it until it was too late… I digress,’ he digressed.

‘As you know we have been fighting a war. Several wars in fact. The war on rugs has been a complete dammed failure. Due to the bloody incompetence of those half-wits at City hall, not one single rug has been seized during the whole operation. The war on crime proved more successful – as you may be aware, through some expert legal manipulation we have managed to decriminalize almost all illegal activity. As a result…’ he said, walking over to a large flip chart display and turning a few pages of charts and graphs as he spoke,’…the number of crimes reported has dropped to a record low. Although, oddly there does seem to have been an increase in reports of record crime, Jazz in fact. We’re looking in to that. More oddly yet, it seems that all the reports are coming in from just one man…’

Wolfcastle looked at his colleague next to him, wondering what was the point to all this preamble? Ddwwchlyff just sat impassively, scratching his right ear with his left index finger while tapping his feet on the wood covered floor and drumming the fingers of his right hand on his right knee.

The preamble continued. ‘But, men, our main effort has been directed towards attacking what must surely be the greatest threat to this land of ours. Gentleman, the War on Terra has threatened to undermine the very ground above our feet!’ To punctuate his utterance he once more flipped a few pages on the display board and tapped strategic figures and diagrams for dramatic effect.

‘Were it not for the fine work by dedicated agents like yourselves our very way of life would at once have been concreted over as the enemies of the State wove their wicked web of water-based destruction and sought to erode our existence.’ He paused for breath. ‘The role that you played in helping to avert a major attack by those who would oppose us is something greatly appreciated. However, as I am sure you must know, it is also something that can never be publicly spoken of… certainly not in polite conversation at least.’ He stepped away from the flip chart and into the middle of the grand room. ‘No one should know what it was that you both did for our young nation in this time of dire need.’ He paused, satisfied with his speech so far.

‘But sir,’ Wolfcastle began, ‘I don’t’ know what it is that we did.’

‘Excellent. I knew we could count on you young Ddwwllchyff,’ he said with an elaborate and slow wink.

‘Sir, that’s Ddwwchllyf,’ said Ddwwchllyyf.

‘That’s Wolfcastle! ,’ said Wolfcastle angrily, ‘Not Ddwwchllyf!’

‘Now, now, settle down men. I know you must be excited. As I was saying - as a result of your marvelous work, in my capacity as head of the joint chiefs, I, Very Big Chief Standing Upright (V.B.C.S.U. to my friends.) , and delighted to announce that the AcademyTM has decided to award you both the very highest of high awards – the Medal of the Order of the Ancient Charter of Sacred Knights of Llanndyddlu… (a Llanny©®TM for short).’ The Very Big Chief paced over to his desk and turned with two large bronze medals attached to elaborately colored silk ribbons. As he neared each man he gestured for them to rise in turn. As they did he carefully placed the medals around their necks. The had stood for something else this time.

‘Gentlemen, congratulations and thank you once again.’ The Very Big Chief uttered dismissively. Still very confused by it all the two friends looked at each other and then back at the Chief.

‘Thank you!’ the Chief said, looking towards the door and nodding his head a little to hint that they should now both leave. They got the hint and began to depart.

‘Oh, and men…’ he spoke again as they were about to leave the room. ‘… please don’t feel bad about what happened to Grandma. It is, I assure you, what she would have wanted.’

THE OTHER END