gold eagle












by Judas Iscariot - June 1998

A single conversation with her new boss MARTIN BOYLE was sufficient to convince Regional Organiser KAREN WAREHAM, ex-PTC, that she has a glowing future, but not with PCS. For personal reasons, Karen wanted to transfer her base in the Leeds office down to London. BOIL was not opposed to the move so, gently and sweetly, as is his wont, he assured her that she could do so - but there was a proviso: she would be required to work all five days in London and couldn't expect to travel down on Monday and return on Friday. For someone who has always believed she could recruit new members from behind a desk in the regional office, the concept of actually working for five full days out in the field - and having to talk to non-members - was somewhat at odds with her plans.

WARESYOUOUT's next communication with the drunken Caledonian thug was her resignation, which was eagerly accepted with the customary show of grief. She has now got herself a job with GMB in the Southern region. As any fule no, London is only a small part of the Southern region - the rest of it stretches from Dover to Bristol. And she won't be allowed to drive a desk there either. Rats, sinking ships, frying pans and fires spring to mind.

MICK McCANT, hereditary chieftain of the PCS Scottish clan remains unchanged by the merger. PETER DONNELLAN reports that he recently met the lad for the first time: "Not an auspicious meeting. he was sick in the ashtray!" Talking of matters regurgitory, JIM "BASIL" HANSON also launched his merged career as Falconcrest's new office manager in characteristic fashion. After the last NEC meeting and following a quantity of high octane mineral water, our hero dis-lunched in front of the Falcon then headbutted the window of the adjacent Slug and Lettuce. Large sums of dosh had to be provided to a reluctant cab driver to get him home. Of course, it is not only "must have been a dodgy pint" which can cause upset tummies.

One consequence of the merger has been the almost total demise of the CCSU - the rump of it having been subsumed by the PCS research department. Following annexation, it was decided to have new letterheads, business cards and stationery designed. CCSU lone surviving guru CHARLIE COCHRAN left the determination of the colour scheme to his lovely secretary, LORNA (who unfortunately shares a surname with the unlamented and untalented past Red Tape editor Amanda) CAMPBELL, who sought the professional advice of design specialist Top Cat. He recommended a fetching mix of maroon and blue. However, when she saw the combination she was physically sick, and told TC that pink turns her stomach. TC explained at length that there was no pink in the design, that the colour was maroon. "No, no." she cried, "it's pink with black in it and it makes me puke!" and withdrew rapidly to her own office.

Armed with a 200-page book of colour swatches, TC suggested a nice green colour to LAWNA's two colleagues but was caught doing so LAWNA who promptly alluded to her ability to make her colleagues lives not inconsiderably more miserable should they dare even to dream of a pink logo, and went on to offer to take TC outside. Unsure if she was offering a slap, slap and tickle or a bowl of milk, TC declined, telling her to choose a colour and let him know. Two minutes later she found TC, who had by this time arrived at the inescapable conclusion that - just like her other ex-PTC colleagues - was elevenpence short of a shilling. She told him that she'd like green, not the one chosen by him, but one a few shades lighter. Sadly, her chosen hue simply won't hold up to photocopying. All a complete waste of time, energy and money - nobody reads the turgid output from CCSU anyway.

The next day TC came to work in a pink shirt. The first person he met was LAWNA who immediately threw up all over his green shoes and fluorescent purple socks. Meanwhile, TC's sidekick Doris took pity on the sickening CAMEL, and suggested that she provide a comprehensive list of colours which adversely affected her in any way at all. It's the sort of thing the design unit like to keep on their files - otherwise KEITH MILLS has threatened to take the cost of cleaning soiled carpets out of their salaries. A tad unfair when their salaries are so much lower than those of their PTC mates who do so much less work, mainly due to their propensity for constantly attending meetings about meetings about meetings. In sympathy, PINK is now a proscribed colour throughout Falconcrest. Anyone wearing any visible garment of pinkish hue is placed on the sickening CAMEL's list of baddies. The Lesbian and Gay rights group are expected to bring a legal challenge to her diktat.

Red Tape's sacked editor AMANDA CAMPBELL (nee Funglestein) successfully conned the Labour Party in Croydon into believing that she had a track record in the party and thus managed to get herself elected by Addiscombe ward in the May borough elections. This is despite the fact that she'd spent a number of years out of the ranks of the people's party altogether. She "forgot" to keep paying her subs when she moved house. Hubby FRANK CAMPBELL suffered a similar lapse of memory. Whether this could be put down to age or simply tight pockets has yet to be established. Frankenstein duly went along to the first Labour group meeting and promptly upset all the established councillors by haranguing a councillor of a mere 30 years standing, not even knowing his name. No matter that he had spent 26 of his years in service in opposition to some of the rankest Tories ever to draw their council expenses. No matter that everyone else in the room - new members and old - knew who he was, in she goes, feet straight into mouth, and demands that the great man introduce himself to her. Our spy on the council now firmly predicts that she's unlikely ever to get a worthwhile committee. Much more likely it seems, will be her placement at the earliest opportunity on some committee or other with ROY GRANTHAM, ex-General Secretary of APEX. Roy was well known, not only by APEX, but also across the TUC as a man who doesn't suffer fools at all, let alone gladly.

To his fury and frustration JOHN BALLOTING BILL HICKEY came into Falconcrest one morning slap-bang in the middle of the balloting rush only to discover that every computer in the office was down. The only person with the solution to this electronic catastrophe was resident boffin GORDON PATTERSON who was nowhere to be found. BALLOTING BILL was compelled to tell BOIL, who predictably reacted fairly high up on the Richter scale. Unsuspectingly, GORDY THE GOPHER sauntered in at his customary 10am and was swiftly confronted by BOIL, by now in Scots sarky mood, enquiring after his health an' tha', trusting that he'd had a good nights kip and whether he'd had a pleasant morning etc etc. The penny dropped: GORDY also hails from the wrong side of Hadrian's wall and was able to crack the code. GORDY however, is not known to be the fastest chip on the motherboard: his excuse? "I can't get in any earlier. We always have cuddles in the morning." So, anyone who failed to get their name onto the ballot paper now knows why.

All is not well at Falconcrest in the wake of the CPSA putsch. The little people in ME FIRST have still not adjusted to the new state of affairs nor have they learnt to show appropriate respect for the GREAT SCOT and his entourage (BOYLE & McCANN). The first meeting of the Joint Executive was the usual farce. BARRY and his cronies were locked in prolonged "debate" with the arrayed ranks of Messrs SHELDON and LANNING and the rest of the ME FIRST ratbags. It took over an hour to agree standing orders (normally a 30 second formality in CPSA days) and the rest of the two day marathon was taken up with protracted and acrimonious debate about minor aspects of administration. Needless to say ALL major policy issues were guillotined. BOYLE was his usual restrained and dignified self and RAMSBLADDER maintained his composure particularly during a 25 minute contribution on a motion about AMANDA FRANKENSTEIN that had been ruled out of order by the President, which happened to be MARION at the time. (The other one is PETER DONNELLAN).

The problem has to be resolved and as the OUR NOBLE LEADER has said -- Sacrifices have to be made. ROUSE and LEWIS for finishers. The two old farts are no longer of any further use to the MODERATI and were unceremoniously released into the community last month Poor old TONY, who was due to retire this summer, had wangled a further year's extension of service in anticipation of another 12 months on the NEC gravy train. When the pathetic old bugger was told his time was up he rediscovered his "swollen legs", shoved in a six month medical certificate and announced he was off. SIR ROY'S lifetime of treachery has now been brought to an equally untimely end (three and a half years to be precise as he won't be 60 until 2002). LEWIS puts his demise down to the fact that he dared to disagree with BARRYat an NEC meeting and telling BOYLE "I will talk to you when you're sober" (i.e. well into the new Millenium). Some of LEWIS'S DIM LEFT people have been spared including BARRY'S no 3 thug, DONNY McINTYRE and the rest of the voting fodder.

The problem lies in the fact that the MODERATI were unable to get ME FIRST to agree to perpetual minority status on the Joint EC. BARRY needs two turncoats - which he thinks will come from the REVENUE constituency - to give him the simple majority he requires for total control. BARRY'S grand slam consists of capturing the Executive constituency but whatever happens the MODERATI can't lose. If there's a massive MODERATI swing there, they will sweep the Board. If it goes TROT the ME FIRST group will have been wiped out leaving the field clear for the MODERATI as the only major right-wing block in the entire union.

Meanwhile back at the ranch the reign of terror continues. BARRY is determined to bring most of the PTC officials down to Falconcrest so that he can keep an eye on them and mark them down for the first wave of redundancies and pay-offs. SHELDON, the alleged co-general secretary is so scared that he's taken to holding faction meetings in a seedy cafe in the Falcon Road where he thinks BARRY'S eyes can't spot him. But high on the list is NICK SHITE, one-time boss of the PTC SECRET LEFT and Editor of Opinion now reduced to AMANDA status as one of SKIPPY'S underlings in the PRINT SHOP. STANSFIELD'S creatures of the night raided his computer in his absence in the hope of finding incriminating evidence on his hard disk though all they got was two-thirds of a turgid tome about a minor communist official from the Forties called HARRY POLLITT apparently written in company time. While SHITE thinks he is negotiating enhancements to a voluntary severance package other FORCES are thinking of an involuntary severance package.

But the RED RESISTANCE never rusts. SUE BOND, the heroic leader of the SOCIALIST WANKERS PARTY in the EQUAL OPPORTUNITIES COMMISSION, organised a "Defend our Unions" rally in Manchester in a bid to rally the followers of ARTHUR SCARGILL behind the banner of the PCS resistance. ARTHUR'S chief lieutenant, BOB CROWE of the RMT, was billed to speak together with a nobody from AUSTRALIA and JOHN SHELDON himself. She sought PCS sanction -- not through the Manchester Regional Office (prop. JASON DROSS) but from the TROT-run Liverpool office. They gave approval and applied for an official PCS photographer to record the momentuous event. Needless to say, BARRY) and MARION put an end to this nonsense when they found about it. (The two ex-PTC officials running the Liverpool office are in DEEP SHIT).