Westminster – the Motion Picture

We’ve all seen the movie and it is the same every time. Eventually, somebody makes an offer that can’t be refused. The hapless victim turns to others for help, only to find that the friend, the tutor, the mentor, the governor... the president, even, is in cahoots with the mob. The corruption runs both deep and wide and eventually our man has only one choice – confront the issue head-on and employ extreme violence. Shit or bust.

Reason didn’t work. Pragmatic acceptance of the situation fared no better because once the capitulation was acknowledged the demands merely increased; if he’ll put up with this, why not also insist on this? Negotiation never even got started because whatever bargaining chip the protagonist thought he held was utterly defeated by the counter threats. Do as we demand or the kid gets it. Pay up or lose the dog. We pull the strings, you dance, sucker.

Oh, it all started so innocently. What do you want? They asked. We can make your wishes come true. But what seemed like a perfectly simple and amicable agreement soon accrued compound political interest and with each passing day the stakes grew bigger and the stories of what would happen became wilder and more extreme. Everywhere he turned those who he thought were his allies presented their backs. Warm off-the-record words and private promises turned sour as they publicly reneged on commitments vaguely mumbled behind closed doors.

Who profits? Who knows? The murky currents of this malicious crime organisation run deep and strong, but they cannot be completely invulnerable; they must have a weak spot. They think not. Even the miserable henchman senses ultimate triumph: “...with their backs against the wall, the abyss in front of their eyes and a knife on their throat. We are nearly there. If some time is needed after the end of March then that will not be a problem for the 27.” Oh really, Weasel Van Rompuy? Let’s see about that.

Is this what you want? Well, you asked for it...

Act Three: Redemption. Beaten, bloodied, but unbowed, it is finally clear that any deal the mob might make will be worse than the last. Down that route lies utter subjugation and defeat. The thugs will never back down and the intimidation will continue unless something changes. Enter the reluctant hero. And the nuclear option. Never say never. Hasta la vista muchachos. Yippee ki-yay motherfuckers. Our hero pilots the atomic bomb toward the Death Star... mutually assured destruction, our last card...roll the credits.