The fairy tale of nasty magician IDS and King Gideon
Once upon a time, there was an old magician who had grown nasty over time. His neighbours were scared of him, and avoided him at all costs. They knew him simply as ‘IDS’ but his real name was Ian Duncan Fuckwizard-Smith.
IDS lived in a big house, on top of a hill. Every night, he would creep out of his big front door, and creep down the hill into the town to visit the poor and the sick people.
IDS would creep up to their bedroom windows, and use his very long arms to stretch into their bedrooms, and feel around for money. He would take any gold coins he found, and put them in his big, deep pockets.
And then, as quickly as he arrived, he was gone. Poof! In a puff of smoke.
And then, every night, the nasty old magician would go to visit the evil King Gideon, who lived in a gold-plated castle, and offer his gold pieces to him.
One night, however, evil King Gideon told the nasty magician:
“You are doing a fine job, IDS. A fine job.”
“Why, thank you, King Gideon”, he cowered.
“But I need more money. I have to feed the rich people. Go forth, and tell the poor people to give me all their money.”
IDS bowed before his King. “Yes, sir, I shall do this. With great pleasure.”
The next day, IDS appeared in the town centre, next to the local branch of Poundsaver, and cast a magic spell.
“Abracadabra, Abracazoom, I’m going to consign you to a lifetime of doom!” He shouted, and magically, all the money disappeared from the pockets of the poor and the sick people.
“Abracadabra, Abracadoo, you don’t need a wheelchair, you can walk too!” He shouted, and all the money disappeared from the pockets of the disabled people.
Anyone who was not poor, ill or disabled stood by and said “this is not a good thing to do, you nasty magician. You must stop it now.”
“Abracadabrool, Abaracadail, you will believe what you read in the Daily Mail!” shouted the wizard, and magically, all of the headlines in the newspapers suddenly changed.
“Benefits scroungers” they shouted. “Thieves!” they screamed. The people in the street turned on the poor, the ill and the disabled, shouting “you stole my money!” and “open your curtains and get a job, you scum!”
IDS laughed, and disappeared in a puff of smoke, as those with jobs attacked those who didn’t have jobs with rolled-up copies of the Daily Mail.
Later that day, IDS visited King Gideon and said “My King, I have collected £3bn from the poor, the ill and the disabled, as well as some elderly and some carers. Please accept this gift to your rich friends.”
And King Gideon did smile and told IDS “you have done well, for that is the exact amount I need to give them in tax cuts.”
And they lived smugly ever after.