The following transcript is an extract taken from the stolen recordings of a meeting held within the Highways and Roads department of Cheshire East Council last month. Don’t ask me how I got a copy, I just did, ok?
Due to the sensitive nature of the discussions which took place between senior Council members, and to preserve the anonymity of the persons involved throughout, their names have been swapped around. As a result, the real names of councillors Ken, Jeff and Dennis have been substituted with Jeff, Dennis and Ken respectively. Doris’ name has been left unaltered, since she is no way implicated in any wrongdoings, and, in her words ‘couldn’t give a shit, love’. Unsubstantiated allegations that it was Doris who leaked the recordings in the first place have no basis whatsoever.
Distribution of this transcript has been deemed to be firmly within the public interest, particularly for those poor bastards now required to commute along the roads of Cheshire East once again, following the latest return of the nation’s children to their schools.
Should any current employee of Cheshire East Council happen to chance across this publication and wish to make a formal complaint about their dealings being broadcast to the masses, I would welcome the opportunity to address their concerns, but have strategically hidden my e-mail address in such a way that they will never find it. Well, it seemed only right to extend them the same courtesy.
Besides, none of you have to read this if you don’t want to.
But you should.
***
Ken: “Are we recording?”
Doris: “Yes.”
Ken: “You sure this time?”
Doris: “Get stuffed.”
Ken: “There’s no need for that, Doris. Let the record show that Doris is hereby excused from the meeting.”
Doris: “You don’t have the authority.”
Ken: “Just go.”
Doris: “Fine. Get your own dinner. I’m off to the bingo.”
[there is a pause in the recording, during which a chair can be heard moving, followed by footsteps and then a door slamming].
Ken: “Right, gents. First on the agenda, is the huge backlog of roadworks we have to deal with. Turns out, our roads are in a right mess. A lady in Congleton lost an entire pushchair down a pothole last week, while an elderly fella in Prestbury fell into one.”
Dennis: “Fell into it?”
Ken: “Up to his neck.”
Jeff: “Jesus! Is he going to sue?”
Ken: “No. Let’s just say he’s been ‘dealt with’.”
Jeff: “Killed?!”
Ken: “JEFF! For fuck’s sake, this is being recorded. No, he, erm…. had to move abroad suddenly.”
Jeff: “But isn’t non-essential travel banned at the moment?”
Ken: “Jeff. Jesus Christ.”
Jeff: “Oh, right, sorry.”
Ken: “Turn the tape off. Now. Before you say something else incriminating.”
Jeff: “Ok. Sorry.”
[there is an audible click, but the recording continues]
Ken: “You sure it’s off?”
Jeff: “Pretty sure.”
Ken: “Good. Anyway, as I was saying, at last count we had 47,613 dangerous defects to deal with, so we’ll have to send the ground team out to partially repair the worst of them.”
Dennis: “Only partially repair?”
Ken: “Well, yeah. We’re hardly going to do the job properly, are we?!”
Dennis: “Won’t that still cost a lot of money to repair them all?”
Ken: “It’s ok, we’ll just ‘forget’ to collect the bins for a few weeks. That’ll claw some funds back. Plus, we can mix some porridge in with that knock-off shipment of bitumen we got, to make it last longer.”
Dennis: “Good idea.”
Ken: “So, the question is, when do we schedule the works to start?”
Jeff: “How about next week?”
Ken: “Hmm. No, that doesn’t really work for me. What about 8th March, instead?”
Dennis: “Isn’t that the day all the schools are going back?”
Ken: “I believe it is, yes.”
Dennis: “But that will cause total chaos. There will be five times as many cars on the roads then, at least.”
Ken: “And?”
Jeff: “Would it not make more sense to do the roadworks now, while so many people are working from home and the roads are quiet?”
Ken: “Jeff, how many times must we go over this? What is Cheshire East’s motto?”
Jeff: “I dunno.”
Dennis: “Maximus disruptium.”
Ken: “Exactly. By scheduling the roadworks to commence on 8th March, everyone will be so pissed off that their daily commute has trebled, they won’t be paying a blind bit of notice to us fucking up everything else.”
Dennis: “I like it! So, which roadworks are we scheduling to start on the 8th?”
Ken: “Good question. I was thinking, erm, all of them.”
Jeff: “ALL OF THEM?!”
Ken: “Yes. All of them.”
Jeff: “At the same time? It’ll be carnage out there!”
Ken: “I know. Delicious, isn’t it?! Now, what’s one of the busiest commuter routes in the area?”
Dennis: “I’ll check on the map….. erm…. probably this road right here.”
Ken: “Excellent. And how many crater-sized potholes do we have there?”
Jeff: “Forty-seven, just on that one stretch of road. But you can’t honestly be suggesting that we-”
Ken: “Read my lips, Jeff. All. Of. Them. At. The. Same. Time.”
Dennis: “Actually, this one here is right by a bus stop, so if we place the temporary lights just right, and a bus has to stop, it’ll block the traffic both ways and create chaos!”
Ken: “Excellent! See, Jeff, this is precisely why you will never lead the department. Dennis here has got the right idea.”
Jeff: “I’m just worried about the fall out, that’s all. Won’t the motorists all get really pissed off at us? Especially if one of them is unlucky enough to get stuck in every single traffic jam on their first day back after months of working peacefully at home.”
Ken: “So? What are they going to do about it?”
Jeff: “They might complain.”
Ken: “And how, pray tell, will they do that? Have you seen the ‘contact us’ part of our website?”
Jeff: “Not recently.”
Ken: “Well, let’s just say, if any of these idiots can actually find an e-mail address or telephone number to complain to us, then I’ll personally drive to their house, naked, and address their concerns face-to-face.”
Jeff: “We’re not going to be popular for this.”
Dennis: “We never are.”
Ken: “Exactly. What’s the worst that can happen? Some jumped up little prick writes a blog entry about us?!”
Dennis: “Ha! Good one Ken!”
Ken: “Hey, Jeff, why don’t you go and get us some coffee while Dennis and I talk logistics?”
Jeff: “Fine…. oh, erm, shit. Shit. Shit. Shit.”
Ken: “What? What is it?”
Jeff: “Erm. Nothing.”
[recording ends]
Confessions of a Middle-Raged Dad 