Report by Little Jim Ladd (our countrywide reporter of the nation’s underbelly)
We’re at Loin End, a small province of Brisket for the annual celebration of calving. This is a ceremony undertaken to mark the coming of middle-age that entails the grazing of the calves of the male or female on their fortieth birthday.
The whole ritual is overseen by the Mayor and his acolytes, and monitored by prominent members of the medical profession, The European Court of Human Rights, MENSA, NASA and The Women’s Guild of Great Britain. Only last year, there was a complaint raised by Morris Wessex, when the surgeon’s assistant – having come off a 23-hour shift at the local hospital without food – nicked an artery and all hell let loose. Mr Wessex danced around the Maypole with a jet of blood spurting from the back of his leg, before being held down by a women from the Women’s Institute while his health took a tourniquet for the better. Mr Wessex wanted compensation but was denied by the judging panel as they said his dancing was the worst example of Morris Dancing they had witnessed outside of Moravia.
We pointed out that the ritual had its roots in slavery, when the owners had their attendants cut the tendons on the legs of their slaves, to disable them to the point where they couldn’t escape. The practice was abandoned when shackles were used as a more humane method of tethering their property. This was long before employers, with the help of Tory legislators, learned to use economic coercion as s means of keeping their resources in check.
The Mayor of Loin End, Orbis Sojourn, denied the links with slavery and said that the ceremony was part of their heritage, and didn’t constitute mutilation or abuse of any kind.
When we asked Mr Sojourn about the use of a Stanley knife in the ritual, he denied this saying, “No, we use Stanley’s knife. This is another heirloom for the village as it is the very knife that Henry Morton Stanley had in his pocket when he found Dr Livingstone. The tradition of the calving ceremony also honours the twinning of Loin End with the village of Ojiji, near Lake Tanganyika in modern Tanzania.”
We pressed the mayor for more justification of the ceremony and he told us that the calving provides a topic of conversation for those taking part, and is a great ice-breaker at parties , whether in the home or in a public arena. We then asked whether there are any plans to make the ritual less bloodthirsty in the future. We even suggested a tattooing ceremony that would mean there would be less pain for the participants. Mayor Sojourn countered with, “We tried that but it was more painful than the nick, and besides, we pride ourselves on going the whole hog in this village. We don’t do anything by calves.”
When we were about to point out the contradiction in this view, we corrected ourselves by recalling that this kind of thing passes for humour in Loin End. Also, having sampled the victuals in the village we realised that their mentality was very butcher based as even the local vegetarian option in pub grub had the cheese tasting of pork. In the end, we stretched our own unscarred calves and ran out of the village as soon as the sun was up.