Can you remember where you were when the 100 days war was declared? Bill and Ben can. There we were huddled round the iPlayer waiting for the Prime Minister to speak. After a few crackles there it was “This morning I have issued you a piece of paper. If you have not promised to mark that piece of paper by 10 pm on May 7th 2015, a state of war will be declared on your doorstep and television set”. And that was it, a declaration of war against every civilised being in the land. We immediately made a shelter behind the settee in case a canvasser should call.
Nobody would be safe. Apparently the chief protagonists had vowed to meet every single voter. That meant YOU. They will get to you on your doorstep, on your high street and in your living room. There were so many people for the leadership debates it would have been simpler to put them all on Strictly Come Dancing (A besequined Alex Salmond doing an Argentinian tango with a rose in his mouth might have helped crystalise the debate). There was no escape. That’s why they call it universal suffrage!
In a true spirit of comradeship we have decided to give you something to while away the hours in your shelter waiting for the all clear on May 8th, or any subsequent elections, a jigsaw.
The lid of the box. The jigsaw can be found here.
The picture is a throwback to the colourful age of the 1970s, based on one of Ben’s old shirts. Politics were simpler then, dominated by cloth caps. A straight tussle between a bloke with a clorth cap and a gundog and a bloke with a cloth cap and a whippet. After that we were invaded by the Normans and nothing has been the same since.
Time to hunker down with your jigsaw and put the Isaac Hayes on the iPod. Yeah Babe! Actually, only Austin Powers says “Babe”. In the 1970s the nearest Bill & Ben got to “Babe” was “Whereto luv?” from the clippie on the bus, a practice banned in today’s world. You can wear the flared trousers and the afro wig if it helps, but it is optional.
There is a body of opinion that says we shouldn’t cower in our bunkers waiting for the canvasser’s knock at the door. We should gird up our loins, whatever that means, and tough it out on the doorstep. A good strategy would be to ignore what he or she is pushing and ask an awkward question. “You stood on my doorstep five years ago and promised you’d fix that shelf in the kitchen. But did you? No you did not!” is a good one you could try. In our case woe betide any canvasser that knocks on our door without a tie. We are particularly allergic to the idea that someone who wants to be in charge of a big red button that could kill millions, the power to send people to their deaths, and a budget of trillions of pounds, should want to appear like the bloke down the pub. Except for the people of Thanet South who might get Al Murray on the doorstep. He is the bloke down the pub who does wear a tie. Interesting contest Thanet South. An old firm derby between Dulwich College and Bedford School and Oxford.
Beware of Muggles!
Bill & Ben are grateful for Jigidi for hosting the jigsaw puzzle. Their amazing website allows you to do jigsaws without having to move off the table at tea time and without losing pieces down the armchair. Brilliant!
You can check your answers for this puzzle on GeoChecker.com.