GOODWIN TO BE SUED IN RELUBBUS COURTS

Sir ‘Right Said Fred’ Goodwin, the much-disgraced former CEO of the British banking giant, Royal Bank of Scotland (RBS), is to be sued in the Relubbus Courts by shareholders under the feared provision of ‘bleddy reckless incompetence’ under Relubbus law.

Goodwin (now universally referred to as 'Badloss') is pictured here on the left, in much happier times back in 2006, when he had just received the news that he was being paid more than any other individual in British banking.

Relubbus has been chosen for this action, because of the retention of capital punishment for certain ‘grave offences’.

It is thought likely that Goodwin will have to appear before the unforgiving presence of Chief Justice Horton “’Ang’em all!” Tresidder (111).

Tresidder, a member of the feared Methodist Fundamentalist group, ‘the Golems’, dispenses a form of justice more in keeping with Sharia law, though a good deal more extreme, than with any notions of Western justice.

Judge Tresidder insists on a minimum of corporal punishment for all who come before his court, even if they are innocent, “to teach them respect for the law”. Tresidder retains his own cat o’nine tails for this purpose.

Tresidder is famed for his frequent insistence upon ‘double beheading’. His chief executioner, ‘Mad’ Madron Maddern (59), explains this ancient practice thus: “You gotta cut the’ead off clean in one go, scoop’n up quick, sew ‘n on again and chop ‘n off again bleddy quick!”

Maddern can apparently perform this amazing act within 2 minutes, although he remains very keen to try to better his record. Maddern is also extremely adroit in the practice of scrotal resurfacing (using a strong hydrochloric acid wash), which he usually administers to suspects to make them talk and sometimes just for fun. Maddern is known to have been on to the suppliers recently to top up supplies.

The famous Relubbus Human Rights Organisation, “Wha’s goin' on ‘eera?”, led by Miss Peggy Trevanion (75) from ‘up ‘Eamoor, who herself lost a considerable sum as an RBS shareholder, said “I’m sure Goodwin ‘ll get what ee duh deserve from Mr Justice Tresidder and from young Maddern!”

Justice Tresidder had much of his pension invested in RBS shares and therefore is able to identify with the sense of loss felt by many RBS shareholders. Maddern too had the whole of his pension stored in RBS shares and is keen to be able to get to know Goodwin.

This sense of association, in both men, with the plight of other shareholders and with those who had invested parts of their pension pots in RBS shares is greatly heightened by the fact that car-mad Goodwin seems to have managed to combine his startling act of ‘crashing’ the bank in a spectacular way with his amazing feat of walking away from the crash unscathed -- and with a huge personal pension in addition to the millions he had managed to acquire from the bank over the years whilst he was building up a tremendous speed for a good crash.

Goodwin, who has taken an up-front payment of nearly £3 million from his overgenerous pension pot "to meet the odd household expense", was seemingly unfazed by all the fuss about the bank’s crash and the wrecked lives of shareholders, staff and customers.

Speaking from the Maldives – to which he had flown in his personal jet – ‘to get away from it all’, Goodwin remarked, “I am not a bitter man, although I have good cause to be.

"If I could have stayed at RBS, I would be hauling in a good £4 million per year basic and I have now had to kiss goodbye to all that! I have told the wife that there is now every chance that I will have to give up the yacht".

Goodwin's maritime run-around, named "Thank you Darling" (believed to be a reference to the Chancellor) was built for him on the Clyde at a cost of £5 million.

Disconsolately, he sipped his Chateau Lafite Rothschild Pauillac 1996 straight from the bottle via his diamond-encrusted golden straw and mused that he could only thank the lord that he had been able to stash away so much money in the good years, since he was now looking at a very bleak future in which he would be forced to keep going on a paltry pension of just £703,000 a year.

However, the millions he had managed to salt away over the ten years at the wheel of RBS provided consoling thoughts …….until the doughty Roundup reporter, who had rowed out from Lamorna for the interview, broke the shock news of his summons before the Relubbus courts.

DISGRACED RBS CHIEF PUT IN HIS PLACE!

Councillor Billy Spargo (98) had the disgraced ex-chief of the RBS (Relubbus Banking Syndicate) brought in shackles before a full council meeting today.

The RBS ex-chief, Sir Zack “the Sack” Badloss (45), is pictured left in happier days outside the bank, which has been found to have registered losses of £130 billion.

Sir Zack Badloss earned his nickname "the Sack" for the huge number of redundancies he brought about during his career.

Sir Zack earned a whopping £15 million per year during his 11 year tenure at the top of the Relubbus banking giant, which he built up through a programme of ruthless acquisition and redundancy.

Badloss was made to kneel-walk along a specially prepared corridor of broken glass in order to reach the council. The corridor had been lovingly prepared for him by a group of ballot-selected ex-colleagues, who had been sacked and ruined by him over the years.

Lining the route of the corridor were two files of similarly-selected ruined shareholders and customers, who were able to show their appreciation of Badloss’s ruthless recklessness by hitting him with sturdy sticks.

However, such is the famed insensitivity of the man that Badloss made it through to the ordure-filled wooden barrel in which he was to be questioned without any loss of his customary haughtiness.

Outside the Council Chamber a crowd of 140,000 ruined by Badloss’s RBS watched the proceedings on huge screens and intoned a deafening chant of the now familiar mantra “Good riddance to Badloss!”

It was only when Council Leader Billy Spargo (105) raised his arm that silence fell sudden as a stone.

It was then that everyone noticed that, seated in his ordure, Badloss was actually humming the tune of “Oh, I do love to be beside the seaside!”

This display of nonchalant detachment was interrupted by the flood of questions from the furious members of the council, each of whom was armed with a device that sent a sizeable voltage through Badloss to ‘get his attention’. We report some of the exchanges below:

Councillor Nargus Rosewarne: “Have you any banking qualifications?”

Badloss: "I have a grade 3 pass in O level woodwork and….a grade 4 pass in CSE maths. These gongs are more than adequate to qualify me for running any bank."

Councillor Jack Pengelly: “Have you any regret for what you have done?”

Badloss: “Regret? Regret? How can I possibly have any regrets? I have made well over £100 million and have salted it away in the State Bank of Relubbus. I'm alright, Jack, but thanks for the enquiry.”

Councillor Loveday Trembath: "Thousands of people throughout Relubbus and elsewhere in the world have been ruined by your failing bank. Some poor folk have felt themselves driven to commit suicide in their desperation. Do you feel no sense of responsibility?”

Badloss: “As Mrs Thatcher said, we all have to look after ourselves and that is something which I have done very well, which is why her protégé, Tory Blur, gave me a knighthood."

Councillor Madron Andrewartha: “Do you not feel any sense of shame or sorrow for the havoc you have wreaked?”

Badloss: “How can I be sorry and apologise for something which is not my fault? The banking crisis started in America, where, following our programme of social responsibility, we had gone out of our way to extend home loans to thousands of people, who, for reasons of abject poverty, would not normally qualify for any finance at all.

"Of course, we had to charge a bit more for that and some of the suckers couldn’t keep up. It’s all gone a bit pear-shaped, but it is not my fault and I have come out of it very well indeed.

"I think I can just about manage on my savings and my £4 million per year pension.”

Following further questions, Council Leader Billy Spargo (86) ended the 6 hour ordeal by again raising his hand to secure total silence and then issuing a judgement in respect of Badloss:

• His title would be changed from “Sir “ to “Scumbag”

• His savings would be confiscated.

• His mansion and other properties would be confiscated and he would receive a house in poor repair in Colinsey Road with a broken outside toilet.

• His pension rights would be cancelled. He would receive £1.50 worth of food per week from the RC Oates Very Basic range.

• He would be able to keep (indeed, would be forced to keep) his shackles.

The waiting crowd broke into spontaneous and delirious applause at the news.

In a park nearby, 94 year old Josiah Cock sat on a bench and wondered aloud “What did they expect from a man called Badloss, a 'good win'?

"None of these thieving crooks at the top of the banks should have any money at all - they should have prison sentences instead - that's what they deserve!"

He then gave thanks that he had the good fortune to live in Relubbus, which alone amongst the nations dealt firmly with failing banks and bankers.

WHAT IS THIS THING CALLED CREDIT CRUNCH?

In Relubbus annual growth is expected to hit a record 21.9% in 2009, the 59th consecutive year of growth in our economy, which is the envy of the world. Mortgage rates in Relubbus are a comfortable 0.15% per annum, on 21 times salary. Savings rates have hit an all time high of 17.5% per annum for instant access accounts.

All of these miraculous achievements were made possible by the nomination by Greater Relubbus Urban Council (GRUC) Chairman Billy Spargo (97) of his childhood friend, Bernie Madoff-Withit (97 and pictured on the left) as Treasury Minister some 60 years ago. Treasury Ministers the world over constantly try to pump Madoff-Withit for the secret of his success. He remains - as ever - tight-lipped.

The English Chancellor (who curiously speaks with a Scottish accent), Alice Dear Darling, has been seen on bended knee pleading for some insightful guidance so that he can lead the English out of the mess his boss, Gordon the Brun (who also curiously speaks with a Scottish accent) has led them into. It is not only the English economy which is in a total mess – the Americans, sundry Europeans and the Asian tigers have all fallen prey to the illness which besets the English economy.

At this stage, one should note that the Welsh and the Scots (fellow Celts, O dear people of Relubbus!) enjoy an absence of irritants such as tuition fees and hospital parking charges. (Is this perchance Alice and Gordon’s secret gift to the Celtic world?).

However, Alice has discovered that the figures just do not add up. In a secret meeting, in heavy disguise, with Bernie at a Little Chef restaurant in Kent (where Bernie insisted the bill be paid by Alice!) Alice howled over his chips that he “didna' knaw how it’s all gonneh end! Everything we do seems to turn to shite! Can ye no help us owt, Bernie?”

Bernie appeared to keep his cool and confine his comments to appreciative, though not very informative, slurping and chomping of his eggburger-and-chips and coffee.

Once this meal had been consumed, Bernie thanked the English Chancellor for the “ansum bitta grub” and stated how much he looked forward to meeting Alice again at the next G20 meeting. Then, overlooking the fact that Alice lay crumpled in body and spirit, weeping helplessly at his feet, he eased his right leg to release a noisome parcel of noxious gas into the receptive English air, and strode off to the gleaming, purring Ministerial Ford Prefect car, waiting to whisk him off back to Relubbus.

Of course, those of us who have the good fortune to live in the sainted environs of world-famous Relubbus know nothing of this thing called Credit Crunch, but, to help the people of Relubbus appreciate the woes of others, we despatched intrepid Roundup roving reporter, Aggie “Pipey” Penlowarth across the border to England (Pow Saws in Kernewek).

There she sought out and interviewed representatives of certain key groups in order to get the measure of the crisis besetting the English economy.


She spoke first to Linda Titt, the 27 year old spokesperson for the English Collective of Prostitutes, who told her that “fings ain’t never bin so bad, like. Punters ain’t got no money no more, like, innit? Like we got reductions on all lines – sometimes as much as 50% - and no one is interested, innit? We tried advertising in Relubbus, innit, but them Methodist fundamentals was like mental man, innit, innit?"

As the ‘innit’ count grew ever higher, taking Linda’s utterances off into the lofty realms of incomprehensibility, Pipey moved off to interview another key indicator – none other that Bill “Crowbar” Hatchet, the 43-year-old representative of the English Union of Housebreakers and Forced Entry Operatives.

Bill stated that whilst Linda’s girls might be able to lay claim to the title of the oldest profession, his lads would not be too far behind with their claim to similarly ancient honours.

He pointed out that, whilst burglars have their standards, the credit crunch was forcing too many amateurs into the game, who were giving it a bad name. The Union had a number of ‘minimum performance standards’, governing such basic matters as the time taken to gain entry, the correct use of the crowbar, the minimum time to ‘immobilise’ the house-owner without ANY permanent injury to his/her health, adherence to RSPCA-approved treatment of guard dogs, the taking of appropriate breaks during work, etc. All of these high professional performance standards were being simply ignored by moonlighters into the world of professional crime.

A similar doom-laden message was given by Tina Chav, the 23-year-old Public Relations Officer for the Basildon-based Retail Pilferers’ Association. Said Tina “Ya knaw waddimean, innit? We’re like a professional body, like for people wot takes fings wivout payin’, innit? Our members is like everywhere, innit – in Whittards, Woolworths, Adams and everyfink like that, innit? Closin them stores is like takin’ our income away, innit – plus you got all dem amateurs wot is like competin wiv us like, innit”.

Pipey, getting the message and tiring once more of the rising ‘innit’ count, decided to leave the sorry sad world of Alice’s wonderland and return to the reassuring sanity of Relubbus.