THE BOOK OF FIB: THE AFTERMATH

As the limousines sped away from Glasgow, I could tell that my team felt right pleased with themselves. Her Nippiness was exceptionally cheery, in fact, I think that's the first time I'd ever seem her smile.

She couldn't contain herself:

"Well boss, what do you think? Pure dead brilliant wasn't it?"

"You think so?" I replied, feeling a slight wobble coming on. "Well I'm not so sure. Get on the phone and get everyone into HQ for a debrief. Now."

As I strode into the room with my Nippy Wee Sweetie following loyally behind, I addressed the large team of Scottish tax payer funded civil servants responsible for writing The Book of Fib.

"Right, first the plaudits. Who wrote the Preface?" A scribe held his hand up. "Well you did well son. The phrases about 'working in partnership with the UK' , 'social ties between Scotland and the UK will continue to thrive' and 'work from within the EU' were brilliant. Excellent fibbing, especially considering I could be about to enter bitter divorce proceedings with my southern neighbour and we'd be lobbed out of the EU the minute independence is declared. Top Twaddle my friend. Have a biscuit."

"Right, page 74. Who increased the OBR forecasts for oil and gas receipts by 50% and reduced the predicted interest on our invented share of UK National Debt by £ 600m?"

"I did Boss. Big John told me to do it in one of his Masterchef finance classes." Claimed another publicly funded civil servant.

"And was it also you that came up with that excellent fib about an Energy Fund even though we'll be running a deficit and that one about the UK continuing to subsidise Scottish renewables after the divorce goes through?"

"Yes Boss." he replied.

"Brilliant brass neck. Top fibbing. Have a biscuit."

"Right. That's enough of the biscuits. Now for the lash. Which bloody idiot wrote this on page 85: 'Scotland will continue to use the £, providing continuity and certainty to individuals and businesses in Scotland and rUK.'?

I could feel a distinct wobble coming on. A minion was about to get it tight.

"It was me boss" cheeped a voice from the back.

The hairdryer was turned to full blast and I began to wobble like a giant jelly just sprung from its mould.

"Well you're a bloody idiot!  Did I not explicitly tell the lot of youse that any mentions of certainty and guarantee had to be left out of the Book of  Fib?!? How the bloody hell can I offer the Scottish people certainty when the very thing I am proposing is entirely based on the opposite - uncertainty. I have no guarantees, no certain facts and no certain outcomes. None whatsoever. We're completely contradicting ourselves here. Now get out of my sight!"

The humiliated public servant slipped out of the room.

"Right. Who's the fud that wrote page 111? C'moan. Own up!"

Another public servant's hand went up.

"It was me, boss" a stuttering voice squeaked back.

"Well you're getting your jotters as well pal. I mean, for the sake of Boaby Bruce. What's all this tosh about an independent Scotland being open to making different currency arrangements after I pound the Evil Osborne into submission on us keeping the £? You cannae say that!"

"But, Boss," came the whining response, "you said that we had to leave the door open for Robbie Marx and the nutters that want to create a sky high tax based Scottish Collective economy using the Skinto."

'Yes I did boy. But I didn't ask you to print it did I? The UK and the Bond Markets are going to feed on me like the cold hearted sharks they are. It'll be like a scene from bloody Jaws. Now get out."

Slowly, the rage began to pass.

"Right. That's it for now. Just for now mind. As for the rest of you. Well done. Disney couldnae have come up with a more fantastical storyline. "An Argos catalogue without the prices" they are calling it. Well, howlers aside, that's exactly what we wanted."

Carry on.