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When the bombs fell and the world ended, Wales survived. Not because we were ready—just because we’d been left off the maps. And besides… Wales is in the habit of surviving things. Welcome to Y Ffallout.
This episode of is called
Independent Tropical.
Thomas Allan, the lane is bad awake,
but dreaming of the marches, the
heated arguing with Brit knots
on social media, the petitions.
Welsh independence had
been achieved overnight.
Not through violent revolution,
not through long March
through the institutions.
Not by a popular vote.
No one could claim to have done it at all.
No one living anyway.
Well, she independence had finally
been achieved in just a few hours
by the total and utter destruction
of every other nation in the world.
I know one.
Least of all Thomas Alan saw
that outcome as one of the
possible paths to independence.
But here he was.
And as he lay in bed, looking at the
poster with a poetry to WIOA and Glendora,
which he had glued to the ceiling of his
childhood bedroom, right above his head,
he mouthed the words silently, Beth NASA.
Now what.
Where Thomas You hadn't left was
with his mom and his dad and his
sister's children in cabaret, Iran.
His nice, shiny age sex and his
nephew Shenae age nine had been
staying with them temporarily while
their mother had been away in Dubai,
working on an oil rig in the Gulf.
But now that most of the world's
population was simply shadows permanently
burned onto the ground where they stood
whenever the bomb nearest them fell.
It seemed unlikely that Thomas Alan would
be getting his room all to himself again.
His parents had put up three curtain rails
in his childhood bedroom and they divided
the room three ways to give the children
six, nine and 39, a modicum of privacy.
But being such an old house
around the Harbor side, there
wasn't much space to begin with.
Many mornings Thomas, up to Alan, a woke.
To either Shawnee or Shoney's head
floating through the join and the
curtain from their segment of the room.
He wondered how he had ended up a
39 year old man sharing a room with
two children who weren't even his.
Of course he knew who to blame.
Westminster.
Westminster does not care about
you, was his Cole belief about
everything wrong in his life.
But the government in London was
the root cause of everything bad.
Every mishap, every single negative vibe.
But these days, since the apocalypse,
he a man with a tattoo of the caveat.
Draw out and sign on his right
pack, had to admit that it felt
like a stretch to continue blaming
the English for his problems.
Truth be told independence felt hollow.
Thomas OPSEU Alan felt as
though he had peaked at 39.
Some people want cars.
Some people want a beautiful spouse.
Some people want money houses, holidays.
Thomas Whelan a man who lived at home
with his patterns and didn't pay any rent,
wanted full legislative power, fiscal
responsibility and judicial control.
But where does the man who gets
everything he wants when he
peeks at the tender age of 39?
Go next.
Where he goes is to the park.
With the two children.
He shares a room with, since their mother
who he shared a room with as a child
also was vaporized in the Persian Gulf.
Everything happens so much.
Thomas APU Allen.
Alan thought as he sat on the park bench.
The children were trying to sit on
swings that had been wrapped around
the supporting bar so many times and
lifted the seat up so high that the full
angle of the swing was only a few foot.
And to make it go any further would
require an implausible amount of energy.
Thomas looked at his niece and
nephew attempting to swing.
They gave up soon and he saw
in their eyes, the feeling
that he also felt boredom.
He had invested so much of his
mental energy into campaigning
for Welsh independence.
Mental energy rather than physical
after all, he never went to the marches.
It took an excessively long time
to get a bus from Aberporth.
Paula to Aberystwyth or Katonah.
Yvonne without a thought about
the effort needed to get to
Cardiff by public transport.
And so he signed I'm all heed
and has had constantly in support
of those marching out of Wales
taking full control of itself.
But now that Wales was the only country.
I'm all heat.
Independence suddenly felt like an
item to have checked off the list.
What he needed and what shiny sex and
Shenae nine needed was a new cause.
And what Thomas up, Hugh Allen
resented more than anything else in
post-apocalyptic independent Wales.
Was that when independence was
achieved, it was automatically assumed
that power should remain in Cardiff.
For Thomas ACLU, Allen,
this was unacceptable.
And so together with shiny
sex and Shawnee nine.
He would campaign for an
independent tropical catedor gun.
Echoing the words sprawled on the wall
at the Queen's visit to Butte town in the
late 1990s, independent tropical whales.
The children weren't necessarily vital
to the cause today, but until his parents
returned from a two week holiday visiting
elderly relatives and blind Ffestiniog,
they would be comrades in arms.
The campaign started quietly and quickly.
He had gathered a small group of friends
from the old independence movements.
And a chain coffee shop
oncotic and high street.
Once he was sure that everyone was there.
He stood up on a table, his feet
stuck to a puddle of leftover
white chocolate gingerbread mocker.
And he loudly declared a
twist on that old slogan.
Westminster does not care about you.
Except this time, now that
Westminster didn't exist anymore.
He changed it to Cardiff.
Does not care about you.
The room was silent.
The pensioner on the table next
to him, looked him up and down and
then fiddled with her hearing aid
before asking her niece who Carter,
when was, and why this man thought
Carwin had stopped caring about who.
It was hard for her niece, not to
snort a skinny out latte, extra
hot, extra shot through her nose.
Thomas Alan grimaced, but
kept on with his speech.
He shouted loudly that it was pure folly
that Cardiff had simply crowned itself
the capital of the world's political
system and that the people must speak up.
At this point, the manager of the cafe
who had appeared from the small kitchen
did speak up and as Thomas up to.
Alan to take his struggle elsewhere.
This was frustrating to Thomas,
but he couldn't say that it hadn't
come at exactly the right time.
The hot chocolate with whipped
cream and marshmallows had gone
straight through shiny age sex.
And she was tugging at his trouser leg.
It's now asking to be taken to the toilet.
Fighting for independence is
hard on a six-year-old bladder.
And a 39 year old ego.
An independent tropical cat, a Diggy
on was not going to happen overnight.
And so it was important to teach
shiny age sex and Shenae age nine.
What a grassroots campaign look like.
With Thomas Alan knowing that
tea and bath time was coming up.
And that with just days remaining,
before his parents returned home to
take over the childcare, he would
need to make a bigger statement.
After all.
He had to show what campaigning
took, what the next generation
would need to do to make themselves
known how to speak truth to power.
As he sat on the bus back to Abba Iran.
He looked out the window
at the beautiful landscape.
Fields trees coast.
And when the bus crossed the hill, he
looked out to the Irish sea and the
horizon seemed infinitely far away.
His ambition was, he felt like that.
See, At the next stop.
He overheard the driver telling a
teenage girl that it would take another
two and a half hours to make the
journey to our home in Aberystwyth.
The same journey took
just 59 minutes by car.
But the young woman didn't have a car.
An unspecific indignation that had
plagued him for all the years that
he had lived in the quiet, pleasant,
ambitiously destitute town of aberaeron.
I fled again in his heart.
And this time under the great
pressure of a newly independent Wales.
The loss of identity as an independence
campaigner in spirit, at least.
That indignation found the perfect
conditions and crystallized upon an issue.
Existence proceeded essence.
The idea is that to become,
you must take action.
And how Thomas OPSEU Allen stopped simply
existing and became a person of essence.
Was by walking to the front of the bus.
Telling the Aberystwyth woman
who he looked upon with fraternal
pity that she should get on.
It didn't need a ticket.
But the driver should vacate a seat
because this was a hijack situation.
For the independent
tropical Republic of Canada.
Yarden.
And loudly shouted that
everyone would be safe.
But that he would get them to
Abbott rest within record speed.
And show the Cardiff bay elite that they
could not simply a see to the throne
of the entire human race de facto.
The Aberystwyth woman didn't seem
to Kat about the message, but was
happy to hear that they'd get to
a destination quicker, whether it
proved a political point or not.
Shawnee nine and Shawnee six look gleeful
at being able to sit next to that uncle
who had obviously completely lost it.
They thought in the
driver's seat of the bus.
The driver of the bus pretended to
be angry and threatened violence,
but ultimately yielded admitting
to himself that being made to
get off the bus at Aberporth.
Meant that he wouldn't
have to drive the 2.5
hour trip back to his home.
It just so happened that this was
the stop he would have got off that.
Anyway, a very convenient moment to be
hijacked by the independent tropical list.
Before getting off the bus, the
driver asked Thomas Alan, if he should
maybe call the police and the papers.
Thomas thanked him and told him
that that would be very helpful.
Although, not in those words.
He had reached his destination
before he even went anywhere.
Driving this bus is what he was made for.
The driver of the bus who was now sat at
home with his feet up painting a model of
a Napoleonic battle in front of the log.
Fire was good to his word.
Thomas Alan was joined by two police
cars, lights flashing, and one reporter
from the CATA Diggy on newspaper.
At Albans square in aberaeron.
And as he drove right past the
bus stamp, not even thinking about
observing the 20 mile an hour limit.
Thomas saw that the police cars
were not only flashing their lights,
but also waving and cheering.
Being from a small town, both police cars
contained childhood friends of Thomas's.
In fact, not just childhood friends,
but the same people who you regularly
said hello to down at the local shops.
When he went to get his daily
chocolate bar or a loaf of bread.
Thomas beep the bus horn
emphatically as if to say.
I'm doing it.
I'm becoming a person.
Thomas up to.
Alan didn't mix with media types on,
although we knew the reporter and
his sisters, his mom on his nine.
He didn't acknowledge
his wave when he passed.
No one could really remember if a
hijacking had happened before in
the constabulary of Canada, Keon.
Dionne.
And so no one knew what to
do in the eventuality of one.
The advice had come down the line
to avoid trying to stop the bus.
And so Thomas, his old pals and the police
force simply polled in front of the bus.
Left the lights on and escorted him up
the Eight seven towards Aberystwyth.
Mind.
The only real slow downs came.
Firstly, when the road was briefly blocked
by John Davis, his tractor And rested.
And secondly, a few minutes up
the road when Thomas Alan himself
slowed the bus down to look at
the coffee Octo, add in sign.
They arrived at park avenue Abbott
rest with just one hour and 15
minutes after he hijacked a bus.
The Welsh language movement
had begun in earnest.
This was simply a continuation
of that proud history.
The air was lighter, more rarefied there.
Thomas up to Allen.
Alan felt an immense weight
lifted from his chest.
This is what essence felt like.
If only the whole of Yon
could feel what he felt.
He thought they would declared
an independent tropical
cat, a Diggy on today.
He had shown the card
if elite, who was boss.
When the bus finally came to a stop.
Thomas Alan opened the doors after
some fiddling to find the button to
do that kind of thing on the bus.
His childhood friends and the
police force has stood by the
door, waiting for him to get off.
The man from the paper stood behind
notebook in hand waiting to hear
the message, the Thomas Upolu Allen.
Alan would deliver.
And then Thomas shouted loudly that
everyone could get off now, but that they
could always remember the day when the
independent tropical Republic of John.
Had shown that with the right attitude,
they could do anything, including cutting
the public transport time by half.
He told them that this was only a taste
of what they could do if they only believe
that they didn't have to accept the
tyrannical, megalomaniacs and Cardiff bay.
Telling them what they could
and couldn't amount to.
He declared that an independent
tropical cat a degree on was that
if only they wanted it to be, and
that together they were unstoppable.
There was a silence before the
four policemen, the door looked at
one another nodded and simply sad.
I Fairplay.
Hi.
The press looked over their shoulders
last, whether he could quote them on that.
And as he sat behind the wheel
of the bus crying profoundly.
Shawnee nine and Shawnee six sat beside
him on the big seat, asking whether
they could have fish and chips for tea.
A man walked down the aisle
behind Thomas op, who.
Alan towards the exit and said, She has
drive I'm down from Cardiff on holiday.
Didn't hear everything
you said it was loud.
See, but I let them know in Cardiff
bay that you send your regards.
When I got back.
Thomas Lou Allen smiled.
In the light of his own essence.