As the TUC rallied in Trafalgar Square, just 200 metres up the road, something sinister was brewing...
Little did they know, but the Space Hijackers were preparing to challenge the government to that most gentlemanly of games - cricket!
The government, not being keen to demonstrate their gentlemanly behaviour, forfeited the match by not showing up. Nonetheless, the enterprising Hijackers persuaded members of Her Majesty's Public to play, soon rallying the requisite 11 and flipping a coin to determine who should bat and who should bowl. The Public won the toss, and decided to bat... The Hijackers duly sent their best bowler to the crease, and battle commenced.
Althought the Public started well, the sheer politeness and well mannerisms of the Hijackers began to win through, and the score began to swing in their favour. Despite brave attempts, The Public were soon all out, and both sides paused for a break, munching on cucumber sandwiches and enjoying the clement weather.
Then it was the Hijackers to the crease. Their training session had done them well, and they batted as though their very ideology depended on it. The Public, though determined to support a capitalist regime, soon felt itself pulled towards the anarchistic temprements of the Hijackers, as with cracking blows, they sent one ball after another over the boundary line, scoring six after six.
As the sun began to set over Parliament's ancient battlements, the game drew to a close. Capitalism lurked like the dog it is, vanquished by a noble and upright foe; the Hijackers marched triumphantly towards a public house, where they drank themselves into a valiant stupor.
The government, not being keen to demonstrate their gentlemanly behaviour, forfeited the match by not showing up. Nonetheless, the enterprising Hijackers persuaded members of Her Majesty's Public to play, soon rallying the requisite 11 and flipping a coin to determine who should bat and who should bowl. The Public won the toss, and decided to bat... The Hijackers duly sent their best bowler to the crease, and battle commenced.
Althought the Public started well, the sheer politeness and well mannerisms of the Hijackers began to win through, and the score began to swing in their favour. Despite brave attempts, The Public were soon all out, and both sides paused for a break, munching on cucumber sandwiches and enjoying the clement weather.
Then it was the Hijackers to the crease. Their training session had done them well, and they batted as though their very ideology depended on it. The Public, though determined to support a capitalist regime, soon felt itself pulled towards the anarchistic temprements of the Hijackers, as with cracking blows, they sent one ball after another over the boundary line, scoring six after six.
As the sun began to set over Parliament's ancient battlements, the game drew to a close. Capitalism lurked like the dog it is, vanquished by a noble and upright foe; the Hijackers marched triumphantly towards a public house, where they drank themselves into a valiant stupor.
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