Scottish man had forgotten his country's tradition of fervent religious bigotry

A SCOTTISH voter had almost forgotten his country’s long-held tradition of cold-eyed religious bigotry until Kate Forbes came along. 

The leading candidate to become first minister informed Scotland that the gays should never have been allowed to marry, while adding unconvincingly that it was too late to stop their sinful antics now.

Will McKay said: “Oddly, I’d got used to thinking of us as an open, tolerant country with liberal views, rather than a nation of narrow-minded puritans. Foolish of me.

“We’re on the same latitude as the Nordic countries but we’re nothing like them. We’re flint-hearted bastards who believe the only true route to God’s grace is suffering, especially for the poor.

“Look at our history. We’re mental for a bit of religious persecution up here, from wicker men to Presbyterianism. There’s nothing more attuned to the Scots heart than thin-lippedly savouring the pain of the unrighteous.

“Honestly we deserve Kate Forbes. Hopefully she’ll raise an army and launch crusades south of the border to smite the unholy in their blasphemous revelries.”

He added: “Prohibition, church attendance, compulsory Sunday closing, the outlawing of gaming and sex for procreative purposes only. Scotland’s back, baby.”

The topics you and your 1980s penpal Pierre from Toulouse wrote to each other about

PAIRED across the Channel, you corresponded with Pierre in the hope you’d one day visit him, drink vin rouge and baiser his sister. Your letters covered these areas: 

What you had for dinner

Even French peasants are gourmets, your teacher told you. So you expected Pierre to breakfast on croissants, lunch on foie gras and enjoy duck a l’orange for dinner. But Pierre’s family were working class like yours, so he told you he had soup and you told him about tinned beans with those weird tiny sausages that taste nothing like sausage.

The weather

‘It is sunny and the temperature is twenty nine’, Pierre would tell you in English, like a Gallic Michael Fish. You in turn would tell him that Britain was ‘Il pleut ici’. Sadly, neither of your reports were timely because it took you a week to finish the letter, a further fortnight to send it and another week for it to arrive. Not that it would matter anyway.

Your musical tastes

Desperate to sound cool, you’d tell Pierre how you listened to The Smiths and Depeche Mode. Pierre, meanwhile, would reel off the names of French bands you’d never heard of. Gambling they were cool, you headed to Woolworths and left bitterly disappointed that they didn’t stock the latest Début de Soirée or Elli et Jacno single.

Football teams

Pierre played centre-forward for his school team and sent long, tedious match reports, ignoring that you couldn’t care less that Christophe tackled him just as he was about to pass the ball to Olivier and Guillaume scored from the subsequent penalty. You filled him in on your quest for a Bryan Robson sticker.

Smoking

Pierre casually mentioned that he stole cigarettes from his father. Desperate to emulate his Gallic cool, you went to your corner shop and said your dad had sent you to get him 20 Gauloise. You smoked one at the end of the garden and vomited behind the shed. ‘Tres bon!’ you wrote to Pierre.

Pierre’s sister

Pierre sent you a photo of him and his sister, Amandine, and mentioned she was single. She was also 19, but no matter. You promptly told your classmates that she was your girlfriend and you would summer together in Saint-Tropez. Pierre did not follow up on your ambitious plans in his reply.