The Writers' Circle

Auntie Vera had always been a bit cantankerous, but people had thought that she had mellowed when she got to her eighties. She hadn't of course, it was just that no-one listened to her any-more.
Her last great bug-bear had been The European Union.

It started when the council sent a workman to her flat in her sheltered accommodation block to change her shower taps for a new set of thermostatically controlled ones. She had asked the man why her old taps were being replaced, and he informed her that it was nothing to do with him, but was a law passed by the European Parliament. She pondered over this for some time, and when the following week another man came to fit a smoke alarm, giving the same reason as the first one, she began to feel a growing sense of resentment against the policy makers. What made it worse was that every time she accidentally left the toast under the grill and it caught fire the wretched smoke alarm would start shrieking, and she would have to turn her hearing aid off. It was all most bothersome, and despite hitting the thing with a broom each morning the smoke alarm still continued to work.

Auntie Vera would pass most afternoons in the day centre that was adjacent to the housing block. She had a favourite chair near one of the radiators, and woe betide anyone who tried to lay claim to it. While sitting drinking her tea, she would moan and grumble to the care-staff about all these Europeans telling her what to do.
The staff would smile, and nod, and ignore her.

Vera found her comrade in arms in the unlikely form of 84 year old Kitty Gasket. Not only did Kitty listen to her, but she also agreed with her. Kitty had been a fervent Europhobe ever since the incident in Catford in 1953 when Greek Tony had put his hand up her skirt. She would often say that if it hadn't been for the reinforced gusset of her pantie girdle her life could have gone in a completely different direction.
If Auntie Vera was as loopy as a roller-coaster, Kitty Gasket was as mad as a box of frogs.
The two old ladies would pass many agreeable afternoons mulling over the disgraceful actions of the European Parliament before one or the other would nod off.

The straw that broke the camel's back was when yet another council workman turned up to replace all of the light-bulbs in Vera's flat with energy saving ones. Once again she found to her consternation that it had been a European directive that had culminated in a scruffy man messing about in her home.
When Vera related the story to Kitty she became so angry that she snapped her digestive biscuit in half.

The two old ladies decided that something had to be done. It was obvious that no-one else was interested, and so they would have to take matters into their own hands. Between them they decided to go to the European Parliament and give the people there a good telling off.
Kitty said that because she had spent forty years working in the stores for the Milk Marketing Board she knew about logistics, and so she would arrange the travel details, while Vera could spend the time thinking of what to say to every-one when they got there.

Three weeks later they were aboard a train heading for Strasbourg. Because they were both old age pensioners they were entitled to cheap European rail travel, and as the fare had not been excessive they had enough money to pay for a hotel when they arrived at their destination.
Kitty had prepared for the journey as if it were an expedition to the source of the Nile and had packed plastic raincoats and spare handkerchiefs. She had also brought along a flask of tea and some corned beef sandwiches in case there was not any proper food on the continent. She had heard that the bread was very crusty and did not want to get it stuck under her dentures.
Upon arrival, they decided to have a quiet night in the hotel before assaulting the parliament building the next day.

The European Parliament actually takes place in two different buildings in two different countries. For part of the year it is based in Strasbourg on the French/German border, and for the rest of the time it is based in Brussels in Belgium. It was unfortunate for Vera and Kitty that when they arrived to sort out the politicians, all of them were busy filling in their expense claim forms in a completely different country. The parliament building in Strasbourg was unoccupied save for tour guides showing small groups of visitors around.
The two old ladies, unaware that none of the power brokers were present, joined one of the tour groups. After about twenty minutes they found themselves in the main debating chamber - the devil's lair, if you like. It was a bit of a disappointment to them that the only people present were a tour guide and half a dozen Norwegian sightseers.
Undaunted, Vera broke away from the group and mounted the speaker's rostrum. She fumbled about in her bag for a while before finding her reading glasses and a piece of paper on which she had written a speech.
"Listen to me" she said. "You have all been very naughty, and made a right muddle of things, so I Vera Ackersley, and my friend Kitty Gasket are going to take over. So you will have to ask us before you try to do anything else". 
She looked up and beamed. The small group of Norwegians who had not understood a word that she had said gave her a polite round of applause, and Kitty took a photo of her friend. Unfortunately the picture was slightly out of focus and had most of Vera's head missing, but at least there was a record of the occasion when Europe was seized by a bloodless coup.

As they could not think of anything else to do, the two old ladies visited the gift shop where Vera bought a tea-towel showing the map of Europe and Kitty bought a fridge magnet with a picture of the European flag on it. Two hours later they were back on the train heading for England.

It was during that train journey that the enormity of what they had done struck them. Looking out of the train window at the passing countryside Kitty remarked. "Eh fancy, to think that we own all of this now". Vera had to agree that it had gone much better than she had thought it was going to, but was concerned that they had not left the phone number of the day centre at the parliament building, so that the politicians could call them before they passed any new laws. She would have to remember to send them a letter about it.

Upon re-entering Britain, the customs official politely asked them for their passports.
"Bugger off"! said Vera. "I am the Empress of Europe".
"So am I" said Kitty.
The customs official who had already had a long day waved them through.