The World according to...

Well, as per expectations the credulous old wankstains we call the clergy exercised their ludicrously influential powers of hand-wringing patheticry over the Lords, a house crammed full of Labour cronies and ne'er-do-wells, in order to postpone the inevitable. "What about the babies?" wailed the privileged primates as they contemplated the prospect of the welfare cap reducing the future number of prey-infants. The resulting government defeat on the inclusion of child benefit has only hardened the resolve of the tax-paying public to bring the travesty of welfare dependency to as swift an end as possible and Labour's poll results continue to plummet.

Same as it ever was...

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A wave of energy ripples through the community as Biff and the other hunters return from the chase, exhausted but with fresh meat. As they step into the clearing a crowd quickly gathers and portions are neatly distributed. Each family takes their share and hurries off with their hunter to cook and eat.

"Me hungry." Bash, a frail tribal elder shuffles up the line. The butcher looks at Biff who scrutinises the old boy and nods. A hunk of meat is handed over.

"Me hungry." This from a younger man with a limp. Biff considers his needs and nods again. Soon the meat is distributed and what remains is carried away to the store.
"Me hungry" A fit young man, not from the tribe, moves in and attempts to take a hunk.
"Why me give you meat?" asks Biff, taking a defensive stance.
"Me have magic rock!" The younger man turns and gestures towards a circle of small stones, in the middle of which stands a vague obelisk.
"Show me magic of rock!" Biff is unmoved.
"Magic of rock only show to believer."
Biff is unimpressed "What use magic rock to me?"
"Magic rock make wishes come true!"

"How happen?" A delegation examines the circle.
The newcomer steps into the circle, "You just believe. It happen."
"Give him meat, Biff." urges an onlooker.

Biff is unconvinced, "It just rock. It not magic"
But by now a crowd has gathered and surrounds the stones. Some of them urge Biff to hand over the meat.
"But what he do for meat?" he queries.
The crowd shuffle and point "Magic rock"
"Rock just rock," says Biff, "pointy rock."

The newcomer stands in the circle and raise his arms to the skies, "Rock demand sacrifice!" he cries and points at Biff. The crowd turn as one and start to chant.
"Oh fuck." says Biff.

As the sacrificial pyre burns to embers in the encircling dark the newcomer, happily ensconsed on a thronal pile of furs, chews heartily on free, fresh meat.
"Me Bish," he declares, "me have magic rock."

"Me also like kiddies."