Derek Mackie: The Three Right Knights

Once upon a time, much much closer to now than long long ago, there were Three Right Knights. 

Their destiny was to save their Land from strife, division and poverty and resurrect the one true Treaty, hidden in a secret vault, which affirmed every citizen's equal rights and privileges. 

 An election had just been held in the Land of Enzed and the good people had voted to get rid of the evil tyrants of the Left who, under the Labour crest, were led firstly by Jacinda the Duplicitous and then by her loyal deputy, Little Chris the Crafty. Labour had ruled for six long, hard, divisive years. 

 The good people were sick and tired of being told there was a special “partnership” between one particular ethnic minority and everyone else, supposedly confirmed in Enzed’s founding Treaty, and allegedly written in an ancient dialect, that could have whatever meaning you desired. Then being blamed for the woes and troubles of this same lot, who Labour adored and favoured in every one of their policies and actions. 

 The good people had also had a gutsful of being fed outrageous fairy stories (unlike this one) about how kind and caring and competent the evil Lefties were. When, in truth, they made everything worse and bullied anyone who disagreed with them. 

 Actually, not everyone wanted to get rid of the evil tyrants. 

Amazingly, at least two score in every hundred of the “good” people of Enzed voted for them again, suggesting that just under half the Land was actually made up of bad or very gullible people ... .or maybe half-wits. I’ll let you decide, boys and girls. 

This only goes to show that, even in a fairy tale, things aren’t always simple and clear-cut. 

The good people of the Land of Enzed would now have new leaders who promised to right the wrongs of the evil tyrants and make everything fair again. 

Or so they said. 

 The Land used a peculiar voting system, with many strange rules, called MMP. Nobody could ever remember what the letters meant but I can tell you they stand for Make Many Promises.

Because of MMP, no one knew the final result until many weeks after the election. Extra votes still had to be collected from lands far and wide and counted by the dwarfs in the vaults at the Electoral Commission. 

These were called Special Votes but really they were exactly like any other vote, just slower and more inconvenient. They allowed the evil tyrants to stay in power for longer and waste even more precious gold pieces on useless policies that were going to be well-and-truly burned on the big bonfire of bad intentions. 

 Another feature of MMP was that one crest rarely won an election on its own and usually needed at least two crests to combine so that you had enough votes to rule. This time it was almost certain that three crests would have to form an alliance. 

Each crest was led by one of the Three Right Knights. 

 Most votes were gained by the National crest and their leader, Chris the Cautious. 

He was quite new to ruling and during the election was rather vague and tentative about a number of things, as his name suggests. But he had made a lot of gold and was wealthy and he promised that he would use his experience in trade and commerce to make everyone in the Land of Enzed richer than they had been under the old rulers. 

Which wasn’t saying much since the evil tyrants had evoked the Bad Wizard Inflation who had raided people’s savings and made everything cost more. 

 Next by votes was the ACT crest and their leader, David the Doubtless. 

He had been trying to become an important part of the ruler's group for quite a while and had finally succeeded. He had set out his policies clearly during the election and he hadn’t wavered, as his name suggests. 

David broadly agreed with Chris on a range of issues, but was more committed to formally making everyone in the Land of Enzed equal again…just like it used to be long, long ago. 

David didn’t much like the third Right Knight. 

 Lastly, with the least votes, was the EnZed First crest and their leader, Winston the Wily. Winston didn’t much like David either…or Chris for that matter. He was very old but had lots of experience, which was a good thing, in theory. He had been in the ruler's group many times before and had a reputation for being unpredictable. 

In fact, it had been Winston who had got the Leftie evil tyrants into power six years ago. To be fair to him, nobody realised they were evil until afterwards. Now he had seen the error of his ways and was promising to undo all the tyrants’ terrible plans, like making one particular ethnic minority joint rulers for ever, even though they were part of lots of other ethnic groups too and they made up less than one score in every hundred people in Enzed. 

Now that’s not fair, is it boys and girls? 

 You may think that’s the end of our rather short, unexciting story and that everyone lived happily ever after, but you would be wrong. 

 For there was a terrible dark presence in the Land of Enzed. It pretended to be fair and balanced, but really it wanted the Leftie evil tyrants to stay in power for ever and ever. 

Its job was to report and explain all the happenings in the Land so that everyone knew what was going on and could make rational decisions about who should lead them for the best. 

In reality though, it took the news and added a secret potion made from the black magic ingredients of bias, ideology, contempt and racism. 

This was what the people of Enzed were told. 

 This dark, evil, treacherous presence was called the Maleficent Sinister Media, which is quite a mouthful, so we’ll call it MSM for short. 

The evil tyrants gave MSM lots of gold pieces in exchange for hiding the truth about their own terrible plans and failed policies, and for telling lies about the Three Right Knights. 

 Happily, this is a fairy story so there has to be a presence of light and good to balance up the dark, bad shit. 

Much smaller than MSM and working in the shadows was the Independent Online Media (IOM). This was where many of the good people really got their news and opinion from. They knew they could trust it and it encouraged them to make up their own minds and not do as they were told. 

MSM hated IOM and had persuaded the evil tyrants to make a new law which would smother free speech and opinion. Fortunately, this was written by Chris the Cack-Handed (yes, boys and girls - yet another Chris) and, like all Labour’s policies, was so incompetent that even the evil tyrants couldn’t explain how it would work. 

 While waiting for the Special Votes to be collected and counted by the dwarfs, Chris the Cautious decided to meet his fellow crusaders in secret to discuss how things would work when they took charge. He wanted to ensure they got off on the right foot and invited them round to his baronial mansion, or rather one of his baronial mansions. 

Chris had the biggest, flashest house with plenty of indoor-outdoor flow. This would prove to be a big problem, boys and girls, as we’ll find out shortly. 

 Meanwhile, MSM was furious that, despite all its black magic sorcery to corrupt the news, the evil tyrants had been defeated. 

Like all bullies, they looked for someone to pick on and decided they would just carry on where they’d left off and went after Chris, who did have a habit of backing down and apologising to them. 

 MSM demanded Chris tell them what he was planning with David and Winston. They had a special batch of potions ready to make all three appear even more useless and extreme than the evil tyrants, and that’s saying something. 

But, for once, Chris wouldn’t play their game and refused to give in. He said, 

“I’m not going to conduct negotiations in public. Once we’ve decided how it will work I’ll make a media announcement. 

And, don’t come round to my baronial mansion in the fair and affluent suburb of Remuera because we definitely won’t be meeting there.” 

 Perhaps Chris should have left that last bit out because, sure as evil tyrants are evil, MSM rushed over and gathered in a dark malodorous swarm around Chris’ house.

 

    “Three Right Knights, let us in, let us in.” 

    “Not by the stained glass in my recycling bin, we won’t let you in! 

It is only us - Chris’ three cleaners. Go away! 

We have no idea where Chris, David and Winston are holding their secret meeting to formulate policy, appoint ministerial positions, and agree on a draft 100-day plan to turn around the dire economic position and Treasury forecasts.”

“We know it’s you, Three Right Knights. We’re not stupid… occasionally. 

Who else would use the terms “policy, ministerial and dire”, all in the same sentence? 

This is your last chance to be open and democratic and allow MSM to discharge its public duty.” 

“Bugger off! You wouldn’t know the meaning of open and democratic if it wrote an article explaining it for you. 

This is Winston, by the way.” 

“Oh, great. You always have to get a jibe in, don’t you. Just like in the debating chamber. 

This is David, by the way.” 

“And I’m Chris by the way, in case you were wondering.” 

“In that case, we’ll have to huff and we’ll puff ourselves up and create a media shitstorm of apocalyptic climate change proportions which will literally blow your baronial mansion down.”

“Quick, close all these huge sliding glass doors.” 

“It’s too late. My indoor-outdoor flow’s done for us. I can see the roof starting to lift.” 

“Out the back way. We’ll head to my executive baronial apartment in Epsom. They won’t find us there. And there’s virtually no indoor-outdoor flow.” 

 The Three Right Knights jumped in Chris’ fully rebated Model-EV carriage, with many invisible horse-powers, and silently fled the scene. Parking in David’s underground stables, they took the self-propelled verticulator to his top floor executive baronial apartment and continued their discussions. 

 But, a loyal homeless Labour half-wit, I mean voter, supplementing his Beggars Seeker Benefit, had been paid to watch David’s flat. He spotted the National crest on Chris’ carriage and dispatched an express rider to his MSM contact. 

Like flies to a rotting carcass, they descended on the baronial apartment block. 

“They’ll never find us here, he said. Where to now, genius?” 

“There’s the balcony. We can climb over to next door’s executive baronial apartment and leave in disguise.” 

“Good idea. I have an extensive collection of suits and ties we can choose from.” 

“We’re already wearing suits and all your ties are yellow, pink or sky blue. More like a flag than a disguise.” 

“Hey, I like these! Very colourful and exotic. I bags the skin-tight shorts, lycra top and bandana.” 

“That’s my various outfits from Ye Olde Dancing with Ye Stars. I forgot about those.

OK, pick one.” 

“I’ve always wanted to look like an extra from a Ye Olde Village People festival.” 

     “Three Right Knights, let us in, let us in.” 

     “Not by the portraits of my annoying grin, we won’t let you in!” 

“In that case, we’ll have to huff and we’ll puff ourselves up and create a media shitstorm of transgender protest proportions which will literally blow your baronial apartment down.”

“Give me a leg up over the balcony, will you?” 

“Asking for help from ACT, Winston? I never expected that.” 

“He is almost 80, you know. He’s got a Ye Olde Gold Card to prove it. 

So, where to now?” 

“I've got an idea. Wayne the Brown owes me a favour from when he was mayor of the Far Far Away North District Council. It’s payback time.” 

“Hold on. I just need seven different coloured magic marker pens.” 

“Look at those three leaving next door. One’s really old but he’s rocking that outfit. 

Odds Bodkins!  Is the Ye Olde Auckland Pride Festival on today? How did we miss that?"

“Behold my saucy attire, fellows. Rainbows rule!” 

“Nah, it’s months away. They’re probably just going to seek provisions down K-Road.” 

“Psst!  Shut Up and get in the verticulator, Chris. 

And stretch that bandana over the top of your head or they’ll recognise you.” 

 The Three Right Knights went down to the basement then realised they had a problem. 

“We can’t use my Model-EV carriage. The National crest on the side gave us away last time.”

“And I’m the only one with a Ye Olde Gold Card for the public carriage. Filthy, dirty things. You can catch the pox from just sitting on the seats. I hate public transport!” 

“Don’t worry, Knights, it’s all in-hand... literally. Here - grab a couple of pens. 

Now draw a big rainbow on each side of the carriage. I’ll change the National crest to Ye Gay NationAl-ways. That should fool them.” 

“See! We can work as a team.” 

“Smart, I like it. 

Then we must make great speed to the seat of power in this fair city - the Auckland Council Offices.” 

 They sped downtown and left the Model-EV in a Councillor Reserved carriage bay. 

“No self-respecting council carriage warden will dare tow it with that crest on the side.”

“Wayne’s given us a windowless room down in the basement. MSM will never find us there.”

 Just like they never found them in the fair and affluent suburb of Remuera… or fair inner-city Epsom? 

But MSM has its tentacles everywhere, boys and girls, especially in local government. 

 That same day the Council had held a vote on introducing dedicated seats for one particular ethnic minority, guaranteeing them representation on the council for ever and ever.

Amazingly, and to the surprise of many of the good people of Enzed, a majority of councillors had voted against. 

In a fit of pique, one of the losing councillors had stormed off for a vape down in the basement. He was skulking at the end of the corridor, physically and emotionally fuming, when the Three Right Knights entered their windowless office, which had zero indoor-outdoor flow. 

“Right. Let’s conclude our discussions in peace.” 

“Wait a minute! A beer barrel. Fancy an ale… Chris & Winston?” 

“Don’t mind if we do…. David.” 

 Unable to believe his ears… and his eyes, the disgruntled councillor ran up to the roof of the building and lit the “I’ve got a red-hot leaked story” beacon which would instantly attract the MSM, a self-satisfied smile spreading across his face. 

 “Now we’ve got them cornered. They’re in the basement, in a windowless room, no rear exit…. and zero indoor-outdoor flow. Like rats in a trap! 

Or as we like to say at MSM, like free speech advocates in the stocks for spreading disinformation. Warms the cockles of your heart… if we had one.” 

Is it all over for our Three Right Knights? 

Will MSM huff and puff up another media shitstorm that will blow their plans apart before they’ve even started? 

Fear not, boys and girls. Help is at hand. 

 Unbeknownst to our bad councillor, one of the good councillors had also sought refuge in the basement for a self-congratulatory snifter and to avoid the predictable MSM outrage at the decision. She was hiding in the room opposite the Three Right Knights and had heard every word of their conversation, then had seen the bad councillor run past her door and realised where he was going. 

Luckily, she had voted for one of the Three Right Knights at the election, but I can’t divulge which one, and knew exactly what to do. 

     “Three Right Knights, let us in, let us in.” 

     “Not by the wrinkles on my wild boar-thick skin, we won’t let you in.” 

“In that case, we’ll have to huff and we’ll puff ourselves up and create a media shitstorm of racist co-governance proportions which will literally blow your basement room apart.” 

“We’re stuffed now. No way out. It’s all over before we even got started.” 

“One for all, and all for one! 

Get that table in front of the door. We’re not going down without a fight.” 

“That’s not going to stop a media shitstorm!” 

“Hold on. Can you hear that? It’s getting closer.” 

 At this point, boys and girls, I should tell you what the good councillor did. 

She used an amazing new secret technology called a ye olde computer, which had recently been invented by one of the good people of Enzed - Elon the Enlightened, from the House of Musk.

Known only to IOM supporters, this allowed her to instantly post a message, without the need for an express rider, on every IOM message board calling for support for the Three Right Knights who were holed up and surrounded by the MSM. 

The message implored every democracy, free speech and anti-racist loving, good person of the Land of Enzed to go immediately to the basement of Auckland City Council. Thousands showed up, many parking their carriages in the councillor reserved carriage bays. 

 “What is that noise? It can’t be a public protest - only we orchestrate those. 

It’s really loud, ominous and coming this way. And what are they chanting?” 

         MSM we hate your Stuff

         We’ll show you how to huff and puff     

         Media shitstorms make us shout

         Let the Three Right Knights come out 

“We’re saved. The good people of Enzed have spoken.” 

“Getting rid of the PIJF is going to be a walk in my country estate, now.” 

“I’ve been crusading in politics over 40 years and I’ve never experienced anything like that.”

“Well Knights, we owe it to everyone outside to work together and restore Enzed to the land it was, where every person had the same rights, opportunities and responsibilities.” 

 The Three Right Knights finished their negotiations then announced their plans instantly on every IOM message board, giving interviews to unbiased reporters and answering fair and balanced questions. 

And what happened to MSM, I hear you ask? It initially still had its audience of two score in every hundred but as IOM grew and became stronger MSM slowly withered and faded away, never to be seen again. 

 And everyone, apart from a hard-core of bad or very gullible people… and half-wits, lived happily ever after. 

Propitiously, this tale took place in the fair city of Auckland. If it had been set in Wellington we would likely have had a very different ending because that’s where Leftie evil tyrants still mostly live to this day. 

Derek Mackie is a former geologist with a keen interest in current affairs and a penchant for satire.