by Anton Martin Smith antonmartinsmith@gmail.com or martinantonsmith@gmail.com

note: see part one here: https://antonmartinsmith.com/2026/08/15/regrets-of-the-neo-thatcherite-the-story-of-a-deeply-fazed-cookie/

I must apologize for the last line. What was it? Well let me remind you it was this.

As he did every night, he would drink until he passed out on his comfortable chair and then always wake up at eleven am sharp. After all there was no one else to wake him anyway. His wife had died a decade ago and no one had suspected a thing – but of course I had my recordings didn’t I?.

You see it leads you – the reader or listener as the case may be – to think that our now retired ex UK Neo thatcherite PM slash dictator did away with his wife Teresa. This was not correct – she did away with herself you see. She did away with herself after forty years of marriage to our Tipthorne because of boredom – would you believe it.

Yes I hear you – how can a Dictator, albeit an undeclared one create a life of boredom for his wife? “Surely this cannot be” I hear you say. Well let me explain.

You see Terrence Tipthorne basically had kept his wife hostage inside No 10 Downing street for thirty years. So naturally she became bored. She became so bored that she did herself in suddenly on the night before her and her husband would moving into their new ‘semi-opulent post-UK Dictator retirement lodgings’. You see the shock of leaving No 10 was just too much to bear for her as an older woman in her sixties. She had a vial of cyanide and much like the Nazi Goering had in Nuremburg – she simply ‘bit down’ and was gone in an instant. Of course it was hushed up.

The cover story was concocted by Tipthorne’s long standing propaganda Minister – a weak chinned club footed man by the name of Brian Brydon. When she was discovered lying in her bed in the master bedroom at No 10 – the internal doctor Simon Sninkler was ushered in whereby he saw the broken vial of cyanide on the pillow. Of course he recognised the vial as it was – just like the Nazi’s – it was a branded suicide pill with a T with two lighting bolts at each of the metal ends of the vial. Again much like the Nazis, Terrence Tipthorne had made sure that ranking insiders had them on their body at all times. The Resident No 10. Doc Sninkler simply looked at broken vial and then looked for any vital signs un Teresa. He knew this would be a total waste of time, given cyanide kills irreversibly and instantly.

Brydon being the Propaganda Minister was tasked with the plan for the body and the story to be told to the public via the fully controlled ‘TT regime’ mainstream media. Her body was simply whisked away from No. 10 in a large oversize linen basket. It was taken via the TPF – Terrence Police Force – in a commandeered linen van from the back ‘inwards goods’ area of No 10 to a state owned T.T. Regime drycleaners store. From here Teresa’s lifeless frozen body was transferred unceremoneously into the back of a seats down non descript staff mortuary vehicle and she was wrapped in a sheet. Then she was delivered under cover of the night and ‘put on ice’ in the nearby mortuary exclusively used for ranking TT Regime officials. In these buildings you could life a giant roller door and drive right in to a waiting type type area.

From that point the men who Brydon had hand picked from TT Force simply put her in one of the racks under a false name. A month later it was announced that ‘Former first lady of Terrence had died in her sleep of a ‘sudden massive heart attack’ at the ex PM’s new retirement lodgings’.

Of course on the day of the ‘official announcement of Mrs Terrence Tipthorne’s death’ the show would merely need to tie up s few loose ends. An ‘ambulance show’ would of course occur with TT Force posing as paramedics and after an hour of supposed ‘paramedic revival attempts’ a dummy would be taken out amongst the state media flashes in a guernsey to the waiting ambulance. The dummy was naturally covered with a white sheet so people would have no problem to assume it was indeed the deceased first lady Teresa. From there it was plain sailing – the ‘Teresa dummy’ was whisked away to the same mortuary that she had already been in for a week and all the normal official things that happen when someone dies could be done.

Needless to say it all went well and Brydon and his appointed crew from the TT Force were commended by Tipthorne for another ‘great propaganda victory’. Of course it goes without saying that Tipthorne showed no weariness at all for the loss of his wife – he was of course a narcissist and psychopath after all.

So that was what happened at the very end of Tipthone’s time in official power. It was almost fitting that such a rank act of deception, good organization, and rank cowardice took place as a bookend to his twenty years in power over England. Of course it was now ten years ahead of that wild ending, and it was now only for Tipthorne a fond and often called upon memory in the mind of the very horrible Terrence Tipthorne – our Unofficial Dictator, now retired.

Tipthorne was sitting alone as usual in his retirement semi-opulent lodgings. He hadn’t remarried after Teresa. He had thought this would be unwise. His logic was that at his then ‘advanced age’ of around sixty five he wouldn’t have much time left to do the tings he wanted to – which was mostly just read, drink and listen to Wagner. If he was lucky he might have fifteen years till he reached eighty and had ‘given up the ghost’. He thought that if he had a wife he figured this would in real-time shrink to perhaps only seven years in real terms.

So he stayed single with music, books and his thoughts. Sure he knew his plans to ‘make England an empire again’ had foundered on the rocks – but he had had a fun time while England had burned down and there was a brief period of success in the first five years when he had pump-primed up the economy on account of huge amounts of foreign debt.

He had always slept very well still did so at his current age of age seventy-five. This is the way of the worst people in the world – they tend to sleep soundly given that they care little or nothing of the – by the numbers – mostly normal people whose lives they usually literally destroy. Of course sometimes they will sleep poorly on account of a bad strategic decision – it would be strange if nothing made them toss and turn on occasion and more so in times of war or things like civil revolution.

And of course I know what you the reder or listener are now asking ‘what about the wasteland of the nation England? What about the violence, poverty and disarray under Tipthorne’s brutal Neo- Thatcherite regime?’ Well of course he simply did what almost all ‘evil bastard’ leaders did – he sectioned off a walled garden of prosperity for those who were T.T. Regime inner circle loyalists, family and associates – and the rest be damned.

Tipthorne’s ‘extended lot’ of both ardent and steadfastly performative loyalists never had to see any of the wasteland that was now perhaps ninety nine percent of England. In fact he even formalized this arrangement whereby he and the families and close confidants were safe in the new ‘city state’ he had created called “The City of New Wessland”. It simply had a giant perimeter wall around its 100 square kilometers and it simply bilked and ‘parasited’ off the remainder of that third world nation that was still called England but was of course by now officially a Third World country. Tipthorne had essentially copied the domestic policy of the bog standard African president. And for the members of the TT Regime it had worked and continued to work perfectly as designed.

All these past wins were what Tipthorne’s loved to recall in the twilight of hi life. He now had his top class whisky neat on the rocks drink in his hand and his record player on. He did – much like that past ‘Dictator corporal’ – had a distinct love for classical music. Though he was much more a Edward Elgar man instead of Wagnarian but it is also true that he did indeed sometimes put Wagner on the ‘T.T. Regime’ branded record player.

End of Part Two…..Part Three to come soon