Many, many years ago, all Gaul was ruled by the Strikers. All? Not quite all, for in one tiny part in the north-west lived Asterix the Scab, and his friends and their families, all of whom refused to be told what to do by the Strikers.
Taking a swig of magic potion that the local druid Horlix had prepared, to give him the strength to hide behind corners when the Strikers marched past, Asterix said: 'We will never surrender to the Strikers! Never! All Gaul looks to us to free them from the Strikers, and we will not let them down - unless it's early Wednesday evening and it's raining, then it's off to Burger Rex for a few roast boarburgers, and a bottle of Vina Cocala.'
But the Strikers' leader Maximus Cowardus had this to say about Asterix and his chums: 'Ave. ave, Paris will not rest until we have forced Striker power over all of Gaul, all of it. There can be no hiding place for any that demand common sense and hard work, or dare to oppose Striker rule. This proclamation was brought to you by Nero Femurus Caesar.'
Back in the north-west, Asterix met his friend Obeselix to decide how to keep the fight against the Strikers going. 'Hmm, let's see', he said, 'I know, we'll do absolutely nothing, to fool the Strikers into thinking they actually rule Gaul. That will work!'
'Brilliant'!, said Obeselix, 'but won't that be the same as the Strikers actually ruling us?' 'Nope', said the small Gaul, 'it will lead them into a false sense of security, then when the time is right we will heroically sail over to Britain, to buy a house there to live in - then we can really stand up against the Strikers, with the help of the British Queen Margaretha Thatcha!'
Horlix was busy in the woods nearby, brewing up a stew of magic mushrooms and toadstools to feed the Strikers, to keep their delusions going along nicely.