It's the suite of rooms in Brussels where the Absolutely Last Ditch Do Or Die Brexit Trade Deal Negotiations are in their final stages, and all of Europe - nay, all the world - is anxiously waiting for news. What will be the outcome of these marathon talks, now taken to the wire, and far beyond?
The endgame is on. The clock is ticking. It's all done in secrecy, as the negotiations are so delicate. But one can imagine...
Lord Frost: I have a suggestion to make.
Monsieur Barnier: What is it, my friend?
Lord Frost: I think Professor Plum killed Doctor Black in the Ballroom with the Dagger.
Monsieur Barnier: Well, you are wrong! Voila, I hold the Dagger. So it cannot be the murder weapon. My turn now, I think. (Rolls dice)
Monsieur Barnier: What is it, my friend?
Lord Frost: I think Professor Plum killed Doctor Black in the Ballroom with the Dagger.
Monsieur Barnier: Well, you are wrong! Voila, I hold the Dagger. So it cannot be the murder weapon. My turn now, I think. (Rolls dice)
In another room, key negotiation staff - working on the fisheries question - are frantically putting the right words together.
'This word here, juxyquozyk - what does it mean in relation to fish?'
'Sacré bleu, mon ami, do you not know? It is a proper word! It describes the way a herring swims, when it is in love.'
'Oh, very well then.'
'Merci, monsieur. That gives me - let me see - a total of fifty-two points. Your turn.'
'Aha, you've given me a chance! That J is really handy. I can now make kipperjaw.'
'Pardon me, monsieur, I don't wish to doubt you, but what does that mean? Is it a real word?'
'Of course! It's a well-known fisherman's complaint. Like codfingers, spratrash and lobsterbreath. You French don't seem to know much about fish - or the fishing industry! That's twenty-seven points to me, I believe. Well, well! By a remarkable coincidence, twenty-seven is the number of member states still in the EU.'
Only a couple more days of intense deliberations to go. I'm counting on our being in good, safe hands. Surely we'll get a result.
'Sacré bleu, mon ami, do you not know? It is a proper word! It describes the way a herring swims, when it is in love.'
'Oh, very well then.'
'Merci, monsieur. That gives me - let me see - a total of fifty-two points. Your turn.'
'Aha, you've given me a chance! That J is really handy. I can now make kipperjaw.'
'Pardon me, monsieur, I don't wish to doubt you, but what does that mean? Is it a real word?'
'Of course! It's a well-known fisherman's complaint. Like codfingers, spratrash and lobsterbreath. You French don't seem to know much about fish - or the fishing industry! That's twenty-seven points to me, I believe. Well, well! By a remarkable coincidence, twenty-seven is the number of member states still in the EU.'
Only a couple more days of intense deliberations to go. I'm counting on our being in good, safe hands. Surely we'll get a result.
No comments:
Post a Comment
This blog is public, and I expect comments from many sources and points of view. They will be welcome if sincere, well-expressed and add something worthwhile to the post. If not, they face removal.
Ideally I want to hear from bloggers, who, like myself, are knowable as real people and can be contacted. Anyone whose identity is questionable or impossible to verify may have their comments removed. Commercially-inspired comments will certainly be deleted - I do not allow free advertising.
Whoever you are, if you wish to make a private comment, rather than a public one, then do consider emailing me - see my Blogger Profile for the address.
Lucy Melford