"The Trump" ~ My bothy industry...

Seen as I'm a no longer simply a member of a moderately-sized society, but have been informed by my lords and masters in Westminster that they've decided I should be a free, active and committed member of the big society,  I set my mind scurrying off for ways to contribute to the restoration of the ailing fortunes of "Broken Britain", in "the national interest". Unfortunately, like many folk, I'm too impoverished to actually do anything, so it struck me that the most patriotic, socially biggifying act I could undertake was to become filthy rich with some instantly successful commercial wheeze. Having feathered my own particular nest, I could then afford to bung a quid or two towards some eccentric charity of my choice. Is that not, dear friends, is the distilled essence of 'a climate that empowers local people and communities, building a big society that will 'take power away from politicians and give it to people'? Charity begins at home, as they say, and so too does the Big Society.

But what, pray, what could Peat Worrier Industries manufacture? Endless reams of prose, certainly, but the market for that is already saturated. Many angsty nights were spent locked in my bothy, as innovation and enterpreneurship ate away at my cranium. Such was my focus, such was my indifference to sustenance, that I hardly noticed the friendly spider at my knee, who wove her web across the tumshie I intended to boil for breakfast the following morning. Blessed arachnid she was, no doubt the great-great-great-great granddaughter of the eight-legged belle who taught Robert the Bruce the virtues of patience and perseverance! Glimmering beads of dew flickered in the dawnlight that illuminated the webly comb-over which covered my turnip's nakedness. And then I knew. Knew all at once that my commerical mission was to produce an artisan-branded Scottish alternative to  conquer the fevered epilators of our hair-fearing, crotch-tugging, wax-wielding world!

Whether it is the humble deforestation of the peeled bikini-line, or more creative alternatives, it struck me that increasingly head hairstyles were being replicated in the pubic coiffure market. The Mowhawk migrated south, both figuratively and literally, coming to be known alternatively as "French" waxing, while (baldy men rejoice!) slap-patery was itself glorified in hairlessness of a "full Brazilian" or "Hollywood" style wax. In Scotland, it struck me that we have a style of our own which the cunning pubic-rearranging souls of the world's salons have not yet embraced. Football fans will know it as the "Archie Macpherson". My spider spun it across the humble turnip. To aid our expansion into the U.S. market, I call it "the Trump".

Inspired by the generosity which is at the heart of the big society, "the Trump" will not impoverish the loins of its wearers with paltry landing-strip sculpting, but will instead form a lush one-sided bushel which lucky customers can then comb across the relevant portions of their anatomy. Both snug and aesthetically pleasing, Peat Worrier Industries will offer a range of exciting products, including bespoke "Full Trump" extensions to allow the customer to boast a pubic comb-over in the man himself's trademark copper-blonde-um-ish hue. Alternatively, why not consider our fully-organic, locally-sourced "Natural Trump" lovingly fitted by our fully-trained artisans to you own preferred colour scheme? With Christmas coming up, bring the jolly spirit of a vain but balding Santa Claus into your home by investing in our festive, ivory Santa "Novelty Trump" for the Winterval season! And coming soon, a limited edition run of "Real Trumps", which will incorporate a hair or two from the great man himself, hand-picked from his pillow during one of Donald's recent visits to Fair Scotia. All Trump related fibres fairly traded from local hotel workers. Prices begin from £29.99. At least 1.45% of total profits to go to Big Society projects within ten years.

So don't delay, Trump your loins today!