Prexit

I was recently called upon by a friend to write a "50-minute sketch" featuring an Ice Lord and a human delegate for a Peladon-based Brexit skit. It was for a charitable affair in Oldham featuring lots of monster costumes and whilst the thought of spinning such a sketch out for 50 minutes filled me with anxiety, I nevertheless jumped to it. Luckily three pages in and I felt I'd better assure him that 50 minutes was indeed a very long time for such an idea to have sturdy enough legs. He texted back, assuring me thankfully that what he was actually looking for was a "50-second sketch." By then, I'd already completed four pages and had to cut it down. In the interest of completeness, however, and to give the sketch a home, here's what I wrote. Enjoy!

PREXIT
by John FK Hoyle

The noble court of Peladon. 500 years after Earth joined the Galactic Federation.

Enter ICE LORD.

ICE LORD: Greetings, Delegates! I Lord Zyzlr, Fifty-Third Emperor of the Tharsesian Cast, am honoured to address the noble members of the Galactic Federation on this the 500^th anniversary of the Inception of the Federation.

Enter FRANGE.

FRANGE: Greetings, Delegates! I, Earth Ambassador Frange and Member of the Liberal Working Men’s Conservative Party, am honoured to address the noble members of the Galactic Federation.

ICE LORD: The Federation welcomes Earth Ambassador Frange to the planet Peladon. We are strengthened by the united power of our forces working together by way of mutual endeavours and understanding, throughout the last five hundred years.

FRANGE: Yeah about that…

ICE LORD: Yes?

FRANGE: Sorry, yeah, that is to say, I am indebted to be welcomed again to Peladon, to sit amongst so many noble delegates and honourable faces. Hello there, Arcturus, you old rogue. How you bubbling?

ICE LORD bows to FRANGE.

FRANGE: Ah. Oh, yes.

FRANGE returns the bow.

FRANGE: You will forgive me if I feel a little disingenuous when it comes to partaking in alien customs and rituals as if I’m still comfortable about it. I know I have been, for a long time now actually. I’ve scoffed Alpha Centaurian Octopoid Cakes as well as the next King’s Champion. I’ve sported the latest badgerwear in an effort to get down with the miners. I even went through a stage of grunting conversation with Grun. Jesus, it lasted hours. But what I’m trying to say, I suppose, is that despite being very, very comfortable with the myriad cultures, norms and definitely recipes of the various planets associated with the Federation - and by God how much better everything became when those Drahvins got involved. Phwoar. – what I’m trying to say is that the Earth has… well, we’ve decided to call it day.

ICE LORD: What?!

FRANGE: I know, I know. I wasn’t happy it either. I was only just getting to know Vega Nexos and there’s lot more to him than just those googly eyes, let me tell you.

ICE LORD: But… why? The dishonour…

FRANGE: Listen, I’m not gonna lie to you. It’s a right mess, this. Basically, the Earth President, lovely girl, mates with General Williams (now he’s absolutely terrific in the pub) decided that she’d ask the people what they wanted to do about Federation Membership cos quite frankly, it costs quite a lot and they still find Ice Warriors a bit bloody scary, if you’ll pardon my language. I mean, you’re big buggers.

ICE LORD hisses.

FRANGE: Now she did tell the people how many settlement buildings trisilicate has helped fund; how many education centres have been erected thanks to Alpha Centaurian cashflow and raised the question of how the Earthmen who’ve “gone badger” to work in the mines here are going to cope without a job. But hey, they still thought the Ice Warriors were a bit bloody scary, so…

ICE LORD hisses.

FRANGE: So she asked the people. And you’ll never guess what happened. Seriously, you won’t. 51% of them decided to leave. 49% decided to stay. Now, the only thing that proves as far as anyone with even half an Arcturan-sized brain can see is that nobody can decide what to do. But the 51% are telling the 49% that if they’re not listened to then democracy is being utterly betrayed and theirs is The Will of The People. The other 49% are saying, “Don’t blame us. We told you getting out of the Federation would be a massively stupid idea and cost a massive amount of money and make us massively unpopular” which, from your hisses, Lord Zyzlr, is perhaps becoming ever closer to the truth?

ICE LORD: So your people have decided to leave?

FRANGE: Yes, well, 51% of them, well, 51% of the people who actually voted, which was only 70% of the people which means… well, there’s only 30% of the people who voted to leave, which means… Anyway, it’s The Will of The People. Well, A Few of Them.

ICE LORD: And how would you leave us? Quietly?

FRANGE: If that is at all possible. We’ll just nip out the back door no questions asked.

ICE LORD: Out of the question.

FRANGE: Yeah, I thought it would be.

ICE LORD: Now, you have your settlement buildings, education centres and your badgermen working here on Peladon. But what will happen when you need your next settlement buildings and your next education centres? Where you will you find the funding outside of the Federation?

FRANGE: (Smugly) Oh, I think the Earth has one or two things it might just manage to sell to the wider universe. Ha ha ha!

ICE LORD looks at him. Long pause.

FRANGE: OK, no we haven’t got anything to sell to the wider universe. We’ve no trisilicate, no taranium, we haven’t even got those crappy minerals the IMC were after on Uxarieus that only bearded men with dreadful hair-cuts were after. But what we have got is our pride. And in Huddersfield, there’s still a place that makes bread bins.

ICE LORD: You do not drive a very hard bargain.

FRANGE: Yeah, well here’s the thing. None of us in the Earth Government really wanted to leave the Federation in the first place. That’s why they asked the people. We thought, “They can’t be that stupid and if we make them think it was their decision then…” You get the idea. No, I love a bottle of Martian Vino and Hermaphrodite Eggs are a delicious oxymoron. I once got to see Queen Thalira up close and what a very, very fine gal she was. Despite the lisp. So I personally have no objection to the Federation and almost everyone back in Earth Government feel the same. So I was wondering – cos I’ve got to come up with some sort of leaving deal – if you couldn’t make it so difficult for us to get out, that eventually everyone sort of goes, “Do you know what, it’s not really worth it and it’s gonna take ages. Shall we just… like, stay?” At least we’re still better off than those poor buggers on Solos.

ICE LORD: You have come to offer us a deal.

FRANGE: Yes, which I insist you refuse and make much, much less attractive to the people of Earth.

ICE LORD: Are you quite mad?

FRANGE: Look, whatever I do, I’m only going to upset 30% percent of the population and I’d like to keep my ready supply of Octopoid Cakes, thank you very much.

ICE LORD: Very well. You must pay a settlement fee of one hundred million pieces of trisilicate.

FRANGE: Oh, can’t it be a little bit more than that?

ICE LORD: Two hundred million?

FRANGE: Hmmm. Bit more?

ICE LORD: Three hundred million?

FRANGE: Bit more?

ICE LORD: Four hundred million?

FRANGE: A thousand billion. Say “A thousand billion.”

ICE LORD: A thousand billion pieces of trisilicate.

FRANGE: What? But my people will never agree to that!

ICE LORD: Four hundred million?

FRANGE: No, dig your heals in, man. Stick with a thousand billion, for God’s sake.

ICE LORD: A thousand billion pieces of trisilicate and that is my final word.

FRANGE: But we can’t possibly afford that!

ICE LORD: Nevertheless, that is what we are asking you for… Was that alright?

FRANGE: Great, great. You’re getting the idea. Just keep that up and we’ll still be in this together for another 500 years.

End.