Protests turn to love at G8 Summit Protests turn to love at G8 Summit
By our woman who is no stranger to a Molotov cocktail, Miranda S Givings
Hopes of a mindless orgy of violence—if not a gang-bang of Euro 2000 alcohol-fuelled proportions—in the run-up to the 2005 G8 Summit, were dashed today as thousands of protestors staged a 'love-in' in the Meadows area of Edinburgh

During the past week, more than 850,000 protestors—some from as far afield as Glasgow—have converged on the quiet Scottish backwater of Gleneagles, in Perthshire, in expectation of what one bloke in a Burberry cap and hooded tracksuit fondling a baseball bat, called 'a right fucking head kicking contest.' Their ranks have been swelled by the arrival of over 30,000 Police officers, drafted in from all over the UK, a dozen helicopter gunships, twenty-seven armoured personnel carriers and a crack team of US spin doctors armed with the latest weapons of mass distraction.

But during the night a desperate group of about sixty women, carrying Make Love not Poverty banners, surrounded police in Edinburgh's Buccleuch Street and began bombarding the bemused officers with flowers, before stripping to their undies and openly embracing the long arm of the law—or possibly another part of its anatomy—with loud ejaculations of joy. The following morning the city was treated to the spectacle of thousands of protestors pouring out of the Meadows, openly embracing and kissing passersby and exhorting police and security men to 'make love not poverty'

In one astonishing attack on Sunday night, a thirty-seven-year-old US delegate employed by Halliburton Industries was hugged by two unidentified women outside a pub in north-east Edinburgh, which resulted in him sustaining several hickeys to his neck. In another incident outside the Gleneagles Hotel, police called to investigate complaints of 'violent riots', found nine US diplomatic cars bedecked with flowers and what is thought to be the Presidential golf cart covered in expressions of gratitude in pink lipstick and drenched in champagne. Early this morning, eight French delegates staggered out of night-club in Princes Street in their underwear, claiming they had been the victims of a serious sexual assault by a ruthless gang of protestors wielding a variety of sex toys and several tubes of lubricant.

We were told that the attacks are believed to be the result of widespread jubilation following the joint announcement by international philanthropist, George W Bush and well-known Peace activist, Tony Blair yesterday that poverty would be abolished from midnight on Wednesday—with the exception of the United States, where it may take a little longer to defeat the enemies of freedom and democracy.

"The situation is totally out of control," one harassed, but smiling G8 security adviser told Utterpants as he struggled to prevent three teenage girls removing his trousers. "We came here expecting a full scale war and it's turned into a bloody love-in! I mean it's not every day the Prime Minister announces an end to world poverty and America airlifts 800 billion dollars of food aid while George W Bush embraces Saddam Hussein on prime time telly, is it?"
"Did he? when?" we asked.
"Where have you been—holed up in a boarded-up all-night chemists? Didn't you hear the announcement about ending poverty? Look! There's another Hercules transport bound for Ethiopia!" With that the jubilant peace-keeper dashed off to 'organise the transport of three hundred tons of free anti-AIDS drugs to South Africa'.

"There is a fantastic carnival atmosphere in the city," shouted one ecstatic protestor from Zimbabwe, as she swatted the flies from the faces of her twenty-seven malnourished children. "We didn't believe Mr Bush and Mr Blair at first but when we saw the sky full of flying pigs with their enormous tummies bulging with food for Africa we knew it must be true!"
"Hang on a minute," we objected. "Flying pigs?"
"Look around you!" exclaimed a loved-up Detective constable from atop a bright yellow, 30-ton articulated picnic basket stuffed with Harrod's food hampers. "We're feeding the whole bleedin' world, mate! G8 and Bob Geldof have done it!"
His exclamations of unalloyed joy were echoed by tens of thousands of protestors who had cast aside their petrol bombs and pepper sprays and were openly embracing policemen on every street corner.

"What I am hearing from my officers on the ground," explained Chief Superintendent George Nightstick, "is that the public are so delighted with the end of world poverty that even the local Pikeys are breaking into family cars to rip out the old radios and fit expensive, eight-speaker stereos. Why, just this morning I saw ten huge bunny rabbits piloted by some of the worst scum in the city, packed with millions of tins of Spam, lifting off from the battlements of Edinburgh castle."
"Spam?" we repeated, "Bunny rabbits? Surely you're having us on, Superintendent?"
"Not at all," grinned the policeman, before turning into a large teddy bear with a pretty pink bow tied around its neck.

"Just a minute officer...who gave you permission to turn into a six foot stuffed toy? Oh bugger, it's a dream, isn't it, it's all a bloody dream.."

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© 2005 Miranda S Givings and utterpants.co.uk/ 030705

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