Thursday, 18 February 2016

Survival at Stratford: a story




(With apologies to the sacred WS)

It was the day of the Stratford-upon-Avon annual fete and sports day, and most of the Bard’s characters had turned up to try their best at outdoing each other.

The prize for flower arranging was surely going to be a shoe-in for Ophelia. Her inclusion of fennel, rosemary and rue among the pansies, daisies and columbines added a touch of originality that others would surely struggle to match.

Desdemona was going for the embroidery prize with a handkerchief she had designed. Unfortunately she seemed to have dropped it somewhere and was hoping that somebody had found it and handed it in to Lost Property. Mind you, it was only a handkerchief, and surely no real consequences would follow if it didn’t get back to her.

In the pickles, sauces and condiments tent the judges were ever-so-slightly worried about tasting the items on offer, given the reputations of some of the contributors. Claudius and Laertes were competing against each other with their henbane delight and aconite surprise, while over on the beers and spirits table there was some concern over whether Cleopatra’s snakebite was as safe as she claimed it to be.

On the sporting front, the main interest seemed to be in the fencing contest, as many of the characters seemed to be excellent swordsmen. The organisers fervently hoped that there would be somewhat fewer fatalities this year than last, when the body count had been particularly high.

However, a sudden blast of trumpets announced that the final of the sumo wrestling contest was about to take place. Everyone rushed to the main arena where two enormous competitors were ready to do battle.

The warriors emerged from their respective tents – Sir Toby Belch on one side and Sir John Falstaff on the other. They were the reason why the cakes, pastries and pies competition had had to be abandoned early – not only had this pair eaten all the pies, but most of the cakes and pastries as well.

When the judge dropped his flag – which Desdemona was relieved to see was actually her handkerchief – the wrestlers began circling each other and stamping the ground as they looked for an opportunity to gain a hold. Sir Toby made a grab for Sir John’s girdle – it was the one that Puck had put round the Earth in forty minutes, which gives you some idea of its size. However, Sir John was careful to sway out of reach and thus thwarted the attempt.

Sir John went for the direct approach, namely barging at Sir Toby and hoping to knock him backwards. Sir Toby stood his ground and the two grunted and swore as they stood belly to belly in the middle of the arena. It was hardly a pretty sight, but the crowd loved it as each person cheered on their preferred fighter, with support being evenly divided between the two.

With the two men being so close together it was possible to see that Sir John had probably consumed a few more pies than Sir Toby had managed. The extra weight eventually started to have its effect as Sir Toby was forced to give way. Red in the face and fighting for breath he could hold out no longer and fell backwards, landing on the ground with an impact that everyone in Stratford could feel as the Earth shook, compounded by a second blow as Sir John could no longer keep his balance and fell directly on top of Sir Toby.

The contest was over and Sir John was acclaimed the undoubted winner.

Next day’s newspapers carried the full story of the Stratford earthquake, coupled with news of Sir John’s victory. The main headline read: “Survival of the Fattest”.


© John Welford

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