Gronk made his way down the High Street and spotted a random Outsider. Now I have the right to walk at these people as if they don’t exist, demanding they get out of my way. He did so and the Outsider stepped aside. Satisfied, Gronk sauntered into the coffee shop. Conversations petered out. These were heady days indeed for Gronk.
“I know it’s not every day someone as incredible as the larger-than-life Gronk is in your very presence, but do try to carry on as usual,” Gronk announced to everyone.
Slowly, the place filled with the drone of Gossips wittering away in the background. Gronk saw his elite sat at a table. He waved a hand floppily in the air. “Crappaccinos all round!” He cheeped. “Oh, and blahberry muffins!!”
The lackeys shifted in their seats. Even if they wanted something different, it would not have been a wise move to ask. What Gronk said went. That much was clear. He got his way nowadays with a blend of dominance and sheer force of spite. He ordered people about and no discussion was expected. Gronk only really needed to listen to other people in his practice of the nuances and inflections of Poshey-speak. And, even in that space, only subtle nudges were required now. He sat down at what he assumed was head of the round table. A waitress clinked frothy drinks over and the Posheys each picked up a cup, extending their pinky fingers. Gronk noticed and pinky-upped as well. He coughed discretely.
“Training is going marvellously with the Pinkshirts. You’re doing well, all of you. The marching is looking quite impressive and the patrols reinforce our grip on everyone. However, I have a few ideas to ram home our dominance. I’m making a few policy changes of the utmost importance… because I can. First, I want the Department of Disinformation to watch and report even more closely. If any wastrels eschew work, appear rebellious or even look suspicious, I want them arrested and thrown into the new cells I’ve had built. Opponents of the regime must be locked up. This will be an important precursor to the second change. There are only a few of us capable of it, but I want to encourage what I would call pre-emptive defence.”
Bemused looks met the great leader. Gronk sighed.
“I’m talking about old fashioned thuggery… Do try to keep pace with my great mind. You’re going to have to step up your efforts. The Pinkshirts must start hitting back before they are even hit themselves. It will confuse the Outsiders….” Gronk fixed his eyes on Fathead. “My vision must be enforced. There are several Outsiders who need to be dealt with to demoralise subversives. And, third, I want you…” he turned to Snoops and Snipes “to arrange a Pinkshirt march through the streets of Area Seven. Create the maximum fanfare possible. It will be a demonstration of my authority. I expect to be impressed. Boots are needed on the ground as a show of strength. So, thoughts anyone?” He trilled.
The inner circle fawned with excitement.
“Yes, yes…” Gronk began, raising both hands. “I’m clearly a complicated fellow. For me, personally, I can see the brilliance of these new tactics. We are switching to surveillance, violence and a dash of showing off. Does anyone need further explanation of the high-level concepts?”
Vigorous shaking of heads.
“In that case, I shall leave the details in your capable hands gentlemen.” He stood to leave and the cronies shuffled out of their seats.
“Anyhow…” Gronk began.
His team looked at each other, wide-eyed. Horrified. Harvey and Hugo shook their heads. Gronk was no longer a plastic Poshey, but he had to be reminded sometimes.
“Er, I mean anyhoo…” Gronk continued in a false accent to smiles all round. His Poshey coaching was coming along nicely. “… Anyhoo, spit-spot, you have important work to do. And I must return to my office.” He stepped out of Chit-Chats and paused on the pavement. With raised nostrils, he strode purposefully up the High Street.
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