The Mocker imagines what children’s author Enid Blyton would make of the Greens’ leadership transition.
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It had always had the air of excitement and mystery, but tonight the little folk of the Enchanted Wood knew something special was about to happen. The fairies were abuzz as they flew to and fro spreading the news, the gnomes put down their tools and chattered excitedly, the elves studied their scrolls by the light of the full moon.
Lamps in hand they all gradually made their way towards a clump of giant toadstools deep inside the woods, upon which they sat down at the edge of a clearing and waited with eager anticipation. They did not have to wait long. Seemingly oblivious to the presence of onlookers, a pixie appeared and took his seat on a toadstool, followed by another. Soon nine of them had gathered. Only one toadstool — the tallest and the grandest — remained unoccupied.
Suddenly all rose as the Pixie King entered the clearing. “All hail King Richard”, they cried out. But as the King took his throne, he looked despondent. “I have an announcement to make,” he said. “Effective tonight, I will no longer be your King.”
A clamour erupted, but the King silenced them with a weary wave. “The demands of the regal office are many and onerous, and I miss my family,” he said. “What’s more, I am paid only 301,031 pieces of gold per year. How do you maintain a household budget on that salary when your ungrateful au pairs demand more than a subsistence wage? I hereby abdicate, and you must now choose my replacement.”
Pixie Bandt immediately rose. “I nominate myself,” he announced. Pixie Faruqi stood as well. “As the only pixie of colour, I would bring diversity to the leadership,” she said. “This hotbed of racism and white supremacy desperately needs it,” she added. “It is not like the peaceful and tranquil Pixiestan from which I emigrated many years ago.”
“But Faruqi, you are relatively new to the federal Pixie Parliament.” said Pixie Bandt. “I promise you this: I will pave the way for a pixie of colour to become leader one day, even if it means I have to devote the next 20 years in this role to doing so.” And so the votes were counted. “The winner is Bandt” declared the returning officer, “All hail King Adam.”
“I promise to rule wisely and fairly,” declared the new King. “And I avow and declare that the worship of trees — particularly the Faraway Tree which grows at the centre of these woods — shall remain at the core of pixie ideology. Having said that, I am not sure what I love more: this magical tree, which bears all fruits, or the watermelons it produces.”
And then it was announced that the two deputy co-leaders would be Pixie Nick and Pixie Larissa, upon which Pixie Sarah threw herself to the floor and sobbed uncontrollably. “It’s so unfair,” she cried. “Every time I run for a leadership position I miss out. Every time! And yet I sat on these toadstools long before King Richard or King Adam did, or Nick and Larissa for that matter.”
“Fear not, Sarah,” said the new Pixie King reassuringly, “for you are held in great respect and in fact we recognise you are of royal blood, hence why we refer to you informally as ‘Princess Sarah’. I decree henceforth that shall be your formal title,” he said prompting her to dry her eyes and nod eagerly.
The next day Pixie Parliament reconvened to hear King Adam’s policies. “At the top of the Faraway Tree, as you know, are the clouds which hide a ladder to a magical and mysterious land that, every few days, moves on to be replaced by another,” he said. “Unfortunately, there is a BAD land up there, and what’s worse, an evil enchanter by the name of ScoMo has cast a spell to make sure it does not move on. It is the Land of Capitalism. There, workers slave and toil for BIG BUSINESS in return for little. And Enchanter ScoMo’s wicked climate magic has caused three times as many deaths in this land than the number who perished in the recent forest fires.”
There was a sharp intake of breath, but one onlooker, Elf Gemma from The Enchanted Wood Examiner, was not convinced. “King Adam, from where did you get these figures,” she asked. He looked at her haughtily. “I will not elaborate, suffice to say I spend much time there,” he replied.
“Now my subjects,” he said, “the time has come for you to advise me on what land you would like to see at the top of the Faraway Tree. What will it be?”
“I would love to see the Land of Renewables,” said Bob the Brownie. “Solar panels across the landscape, massive and majestic wind turbines dominating the skyline as far as the eye can see. Provided of course they’re not in my backyard or anywhere within cooee of my joint.”
“I would like to see the Land of Tolerance,” said Pixie Steele-John. “A place where courtesy to all prevails and where conservatives cannot vilify us with their poisonous remarks. As for you, you can shut the f..k up, you right-wing nut job,” he said to Elf Gemma as she raised her hand.
“I agree with Steele-John,” said Pixie Peter. “What’s more, if conservatives cannot constrain their hateful views or if they maintain there are only two genders, they should be sent away for compulsory re-education in the Land of Dame Smack.”
“My desire is to have a land based on the law and order policies of my native Melbournia,” said Pixie Janet. “I cannot wait to visit the Land of Do as You Please.”
“Well, my land is so much better than ALL of your lands,” said Princess Sarah. “What’s more it is safer. I for one cannot wait to visit the Land of No CO2. Imagine how fantastic it would be to breathe 100 per cent pure oxygen all the time!”
“Princess Sarah, there are a few issues with that one,” said Bob the Brownie. “Without C02 most plants would die. And the air you breathe is only around 18 per cent oxygen. If it were 100 per cent you would inevitably succumb to toxicity within — oh Christ, here we go,” he muttered as the princess howled and leapt from her toadstool. “Disrespecting me AGAIN!” she screamed as she ran from the clearing.
“Well I would like to live in the Land of Dual Citizens,” said Pixie Larissa. “Imagine a tolerant land where I, a humble lawyer, did not have to comprehend the constitutional significance of section 44. Such unnecessary burdens impeded me from carrying out vital things as a pixie parliamentarian. You know, like showing the world that I can breastfeed while giving a speech or bringing spokespixies to events to warn that firefighters in the Enchanted Woods, generally, return home to subject their wives to domestic violence.”
King Adam stroked his chin at length. “These are all noble aspirations,” he said. “Ultimately, however, the ideal land must reflect the tenets that we hold dear to our heart — that those who have amassed wealth have done so at the expense of the rest of us, and that we suffer as a result.” The other pixies listened closely as he arrived at his decision.
“There is no better home suited for us than the Land of Take What You Want,” he said, as all the pixies cheered and did cartwheels. “The naysayers will say this has been tried and has failed, but that will not dissuade us. This time it will be different.”
King Adam rose to his full height and puffed out his chest, hand firmly clasped on the royal sceptre. “I’m coming for you Enchanter ScoMo, and I will sort you out just like I did with that war lord Jim Molan. Do you hear me? I am going to TURF YOU OUT.
To be continued in The Faraway Tree Volume II: Adam & the Antics
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