Last thing I knew he was coming through that cupboard door behind the bar. Boris Johnson owes me a new door, it’s all splinters. Apparently it is all because of that Jeremy Clarkson bloke off the telly, he says he upset the Red Queen, had a bit too much to drink if you ask me. Anyway he first sauntered into my pub around 12 this afternoon wearing a dapper pinstripe suit, he walked over to a crowded table looking for these two oxford students who seemed a bit worse for wear. 50 minutes later and at least 7 rounds bought, it became obvious he wasn’t casually talking to the poor fellas. Rumour has it these students have created a “miracle” drug that can reduce the size of anything. They pulled out a batch of cinnamon rolls and pulled off the lid offering it to Boris, “Taste test?” they asked. “Are you quite sure this will help me to find Jeremy and the others?” Turns out celebrities have been disappearing over the last few months no one has heard from them since. Who would’ve thought politicians would rely on a man who made whiff waff cool? Boris cut a slice off the cinnamon roll, slipped it into a handkerchief in his pocket and strolled off. So apparently, later on that day after countless meetings and questions about why he smelt of cinnamon he finally got down to business. The roll was a bit squashed by then but that wouldn’t matter would it? He went to eat in the park outside of his office, sat down on the nearest bench and wolfed it down. All around him started shimmering making him wonder what exactly was in the roll the students gave him. Trees grew taller and stretched towards the sky like they were being pulled by the clouds. The grass became thicker and darker, mounds of dirt seemed to rise like dough. It grew so much it almost reaches Boris’ head and then gone. He is buried beneath the earth and then he starts to feel like he’s… falling? He thought that can’t be right the ground was solid a few minutes ago. But Boris found he kept falling and falling, it wasn’t very pleasant until he smelt the gorgeous smell of… cinnamon? He really was going mad he would have to demand an apology off those Oxford Hooligans. CRACK. He struck an object hard, landing on what felt like a tree, which is impossible. A land within a land? Boris is so unoriginal. Boris peeked out from under his hair to view his surroundings. Everything looked to be normal, the birds were chirping, the sky was blue, the ground was moving, the air was clean.. THE GROUND WAS MOVING. Boris attempted to scramble to his feet only to find one foot was trapped under roots, he used his free foot to kick the root not even wondering what a waste of time that would be. “STOP.” said a high pitched voice. Boris looked around but he couldn’t see where the voice was coming from. “Hello? Is someone there?” the unusually high voice rumbled above him again “The Queen has been expecting you your Majesty. The man called Clarkson has been declaring for weeks of Royalty coming to rescue him.” Boris daren’t look up to find the voice’s owner but eventually had to look up out of fear of looking down at the Earth below him shaking and trembling. The high pitched voice belonged to what looked like a tree, a very ugly short tree. Boris replayed what the tree said and recalled why he came here, to save the celebrities. He couldn’t let the tree know who he really was. “uUhh- Yes! Royalty! Tell the Queen at once that I have arrived.” The courtyard was filled with giant playing cards waving in the breeze. Actually waving at Boris, with hands and everything. Towers made of steel jutted out of the ground in a strange formation led through to the castles entrance. Standing there in front of the gates were two figures one, a strange short woman dressed in all red, with a rather large head and the other a slim twig-like woman dressed in all white. Boris stifled a shudder as he thought of the woman in white resembling the tree. “Good Evening your Majesty. Sorry about your transport our men are guarding our inhabitants. Not necessary as I told my sister.” Said the tall one. The red short one’s face turned
purple ruining her totally red ensemble. “We needed them so the leverage didn’t run away again. He keeps putting the fire out. SISTER.” Boris shook his head. “It can’t believe it’s really you two.” Boris bows. “Your Highnesses. The Red Queen and the White Queen I presume?” Before Boris even returns to stand he gets thrown off his feet and carried away. The Queens lead the group forwards through the hallways and out into another courtyard overlooking a large pond. The White Queen straightened her posture as the guards approached eyeing them carefully. “Your Highness, unfortunately due to circumstances we decided we had to burn Mr Clarkson at the stake in the best interests of the Kingdoms. As a result of which I am sure you’ll understand we now have to keep the other members of his party under arrest indefinitely.” Boris attempted to nod politely whilst scanning the area for possible exits. Just in front of the pond there was another steel shard jutting out of the earth, tied to the shard a figure leaned casually as if he wasn’t getting tied up to the object for the hundredth time. Boris chuckled. “Well no wonder your man is putting the fire out all the time who puts their captive and his stake next to a pond?” He looks over to the captive and winks “Hello Clarkson!” Jeremy looks away from the guards tying him outrageously and towards Boris and jests “Oh my rescuer! Have you heard of the dreadful news? The Queens have teamed up to keep me and the others captured! All because of a minor misunderstan-“ “MINOR MISUNDERSTANDING?! You said I had the aroma of the Durian fruit even on my better days!” The White Queen blurted breaking her perfect balance. “Oh please you think that’s bad? When I offered him a life of wealth in the palace as King he said OFF WITH HER HEAD. Only just made it to safety with my head on my shoulders. My own men going against my orders?!” Clarkson kicked the embers coming off the newly lit fire and mumbled “Well when you put it that way..” Boris got the chance to walk up to Jeremy while the guards deal with the Queens new squabble. “What do you say we get out of here before you become Sunday Roast?” A large fish jumps out of the pond spraying water onto the fire putting it out instantly. The fish swims up to the water’s edge and greets them “Not a bad idea.” Boris jumped out of his skin. “Graham Norton! They turned Graham Norton into a fish?!” Jeremy easily shook off the bonds the Queen’s men tied and rolls his eyes. “Long Story. Everyone else is waiting in the royal gardens for us when they hear the guards chasing after us. Better hurry before Tweedle Dee and Dum get their act together.” Boris, Jeremy and Graham started making their way down the riverbank. In a matter of seconds shouting and wailing could be heard. Jumping over roots and rosebushes Boris panicked managing to trip over himself, sending himself and Jeremy flying into a row of felled trees which probably meant to be used to keep Jeremy’s bonfire going. The mound of trees started to shake violently and a loose log falls out of the stack. Boris and Jeremy only just managed to roll out the way in time to watch their pursuers be sent flying. “Everything you do is a marvellous mistake.” Clarkson grunted. Looking back on Boris’ journey it bloody well seemed like it. When they reached the gardens everyone was as gob smacked as I was about her Majesty sending Boris to find them which is probably the most convincing part of this story. “The cinnamon roll? Do you have the leftovers?” Graham gave an alarmed glance to Boris. “You do still have it?” Boris gulped and pulled out his handkerchief and looking at the crumbs left behind. “Hold on this could work. A crumb each?” Of course this plan wasn’t going to work who ever
heard of celebrities being saved from a magical kingdom before? “STOP. RIGHT. THERE.” The Queens who were being carried by their guards dropped down from their carriages. They were surrounded. The celebrities slowly backed themselves towards Boris knocking him. He slyly dropped the handkerchief and pushed it backwards towards the group. “I have a confession.” Boris blurted in hope that it would distract the guards from noticing everyone picking up the remnants of the delicious roll. The Red Queen shot a sour look at Boris. “Yes?” Feigning confidence Boris took a step forward and shoved a crumb in his mouth. “I am not royalty. I am a politician!” The celebrities collectively shouted at Boris. The hunting party went into a frenzy. Everyone quickly rushes to eat their microscopic piece of cinnamon roll. Jeremy dives into the pond and grabs hold of Graham which turned out to be harder than expected. Time suddenly stopped, everyone praying Boris’ idea would work. 1. 2. 3. And that’s when my cupboard door came off its hinges, scared half my customers out of my joint thinking I’d gone too far with the Halloween décor again. I swear I lost my mind - colours, purple, green, yellow spewing out that place. I really need to stop drinking during work hours. Then they all fell out into a large pile. There was Cheryl Cole, the cast of Eastenders, Harry Styles? I don’t know who has been pretending to be him for the past few months but the clone obviously has his band mates fooled. More and more celebrities kept tumbling out of nowhere – Michael Gambon, Adele, the Kaiser Chiefs and also a list of celebrities I am far too young to know obviously but let’s just say some of them are said to be dead. Boris got up brushing off his suit grabbing hold of what looked like a fish and walked over to my bar. “Can we get a round on me and a bowl for this fellow?” He held up the fish proudly. “Hopefully he’ll be back to normal in no time.” He gestured to the celebrities moaning and groaning on the floor. “Also can we water down their drinks? I’m not made of money. Oh my friend do I have a story to tell you.”