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“Mother Teresa never farted.” Says agent!

 

Hallo tiny tots, and big tots too.  I’d like to talk to you about fibbing today.  Not the itsy-bitsy little fibs that mummies and daddies tell each other, but the very, very big fibs that all Governments tell their country’s people, when they need to delay civil unrest or have to get all of the important people out of harms way, before the ploopy-plops-plops hits the fan.

In a town, much like yours, but in a land far, far away, where they drank low grade Vodka for breakfast lived 43,000 people.  It was a lovely place to live, the residents were told.  The poor were very poor, but the rich had bundles of extra cash flying about, mainly because there wasn’t a middle-class element worry about.

Anyway, one fine day on the 26th of April, 1986, in a very special building, a man in a white coat noticed that all was not ginger and peachy in reactor 4.  And this building, that was used to help keep everyone’s house warm, got a little too warm itself, and a big bang blew the roof off in the early hours.  In fact, it was such a big bang, that 12 hundred tons of concrete and metal vapourised in three seconds!

Well, after a tea break and a rub down with ‘Why has my fish got two heads?’, the men working in the special building saw a very naughty cloud of atomic particles high in the sky, and someone said, “I think we should tell somebody about that,” and eventually they did.  Yes, eight hours after the roof blew off in fact.  As they didn’t want to upset their leader, they told him they could fix the problem and everything would be fine and dandy, and he was very happy.  And this, children, is where a little fib turns into a string of absolute belters!!!

Just then, at exactly 10:30 in the morning, in the town that was three short miles away from that very, very special building I told you about, some helpful soldiers happened by.  As they didn’t want to worry the people walking about that day, they wore face masks and carried special boxes with them.  And if anyone asked them what they were doing, they just said they were doing some very important tests, and there was no need to worry.

On the 27th April, at 2pm precisely the town’s mayor said that everyone could have a free ride on one of the 1000 coaches that began arriving in the local square.  “Hoorah”, said all the people, and in a trice, or three and half hours as we know it, all 43,000 people had been whisked away to  place where they didn’t click so much.  And 48 hours later children, the only people left in the town were the helpful soldiers I told you about and some even more helpful scientists.  Gosh, what a stroke of luck. 

What a to-do!  Well now, 60 hours after the mishap at the special building, there was still no official word from the bigger boys running the country.  However, a little later the next day, a very, very important Russian man said, “Ooops, I think we a have a problem,” to the rest of the world.  But he only said because another country, which was a long way away, called them on the telephone and said, “You’ve got a problem with one of your special buildings mate-boy!”

Imagine!  Well, it didn’t matter that the radiation levels were 7,000 times higher than was safe for human habitation, at least he had told someone, and he felt so much better for doing so, because then no one would get cross with him.

To keep the people occupied in another town a little further from the naughty reactor, they were urged to organise a Mayday parade, so they did.  There were marching bands, games for the children, and food and drink for everyone.  In the extra heat of the day, everyone had a fantastic day, although we can’t prove this, as they all seemed to have vanished!  Still, I expect they will turn up one day to tell their story.  In fact I’m sure they will, because the parade was called ‘ The Parade of Death’, so I’m sure somebody would’ve made a note of that.  Don’t you children?

“Anyway,” said a Government official to the man in charge of the special building, “I suppose we should start clearing up the mess,” so they did.  But, when they realised the country didn’t have enough black bin liners, they had to ‘ask’ 500,000 people for their help.

Well, naturally everyone jumped at the chance to help their country and pass away in relative agony and obscurity, especially after their skin fell off, leaving their bones largely visible.  But don’t worry, this is all perfectly normal when you’ve had a lifetimes dose of radiation in just 41 seconds.  Thankfully, one man wrote down on a bit of paper that only 59 people actually went up to the official heaven, so that was very fortunate indeed.

Now children, where do you think that naughty cloud of atomic particles went?  Well, it was quite a windy day, but as far as we know, it was just the whole of Europe that got a really good coating.  Phew!  Wasn’t that lucky.  And don’t take any notice if the thyroid cancer rate went up in your area, just after the big bang, I’m sure it’s just a bit of tittle-tattle. 

It’s funny isn’t children, even after such a big problem, that happened over 25 years ago, no one has ever made a study of the people who lived near that special building!  And, more surprisingly, there aren’t any global statistics from around that time.  France said, “Cloud?  What cloud?”  There were so many figures knocking around at the time by someone, who thought that 40,000 people might have stopped breathing, but a little later on, and after an afternoon nap  in 2005, this figure dropped to just 4,000 people.  Phew, I here you say.

But what about the town today, I hear you ask?  Well, when the men in charge noticed that forest 30 miles away from reactor 4 looked a bit burnt, they put a big fence around it.  However, the very next day, they returned and extended the fence and isolated an area off a shade over 600,000 hectares from the rest of the world.  Lummy!

What’s that children?  When will the people be able to go back to their town?  Well, a little Russian bird has just told me that all will be hunky dory in about 800 years…

Night, night children, and don’t let the Chernobyl-bugs bite…

Right, I’m off, I’ve got  to… …can you hear clicking?

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