The recent developments to the Kitchen Situation – helpfully labelled the Suitcase Situation – certainly warranted an urgent Cabinet meeting. Sitting in the dashingly furnished Cabinet Office, accidental Prime Minister Lucy Wastell was in fact somewhat grateful that such exigent ameliorations presented themselves when they did. The earlier commotion had disturbed the slumbering Tony Blair, who upon waking – and it turns out Mumsie was right after all – immediately demanded to be fed and started whining about wanting a haircut. Lucy found this to be incredibly annoying, so any excuse to get out of the kitchen was gratefully welcomed.
The suitcase itself had been immediately entrusted into the hands of Minister of Defence, Lord Daniel Westington. It now sits with some sinistery* before him, looking rather dangerous on the grand, French polished table. The assembled Ministers were all looking at it in a not-really-looking-at-it sort of way, as if close scrutiny might upset it. Disingenuous small talk fails to veil the evident apprehension.
Lucy was rather pleased that most of the Cabinet had managed to dig themselves out at such short notice. There were a few omissions, however – the Foreign Secretary hadn’t deemed a potential bomb threat as weighty enough to shift him from his occupancy in the South of France, but he did at least send his very best wishes to all concerned. Regrettably, Wing Commander Tom had been unreachable, no doubt swanking about the kingdom on some perilous pursuit or other. Which was a shame.
Just as Lucy was about the bring the Cabinet to order, Mumsie appeared at the door with a heaving tray of tea things and very small cakes. Why very small cakes? Surely cakes should be big. She didn’t get far, unfortunately, before fumbling unforgivably and depositing the lot into the expensively-attired lap of Cabinet Secretary, Sir Edd Evans-Morley. A quiet yet lethal gentleman, Sir Edd gallantly suppressed what must have been a quite boisterous squeal and smiled apologetically at the horrified Mumsie.
“My fault entirely, madam.”
Herding Mumsie swiftly out the door, Lucy decided it really was time to get on with things.
“I’ll keep this brief, as it appears we haven’t got any tea and cake,” she said. “Lord Westington, what can you tell us about this suitcase?”
Upon rising to his feet, Lord Westington bristled his magnificent moustache and cleared his throat.
“You were right to come to me about this matter, of course you were,” he boomed. “But I have to tell you that it’s all been a blasted waste of my time. See here – ”
With a flourish, he flicked the catches on the suitcase and, accompanied by short gasps of horror from the Cabinet, it snapped open, spewing dusters of all kinds across the table. Collective heartbeats settle to a pace somewhere just beneath pneumatic.
“Do you mean to say he really was just selling dusters?” asked Ian, scratching his temple with a fountain pen.
“Oh, I feel a bit bad for him now,” Lucy repined. “I’d have just bought a duster if I’d have known. He was living in a tree for four years, you know.”
“When a man takes to living in a tree one must wonder what lead him there, Prime Minister,” retorts Lord Westington. “In his case, it probably had something to do with him being an utter bastard.”
“Well, that’s probably true,” Lucy nodded in agreement. “Hey ho, at least he wasn’t trying to blow us up or spy on us. Anyway, now we’re all here, perhaps we should have a bit of a catch up? Chancellor, how are the coffers looking these days?”
Momentarily caught off guard, Ian shuffled through the papers before him and glanced surreptitiously in the direction of Trade Minister, Simon Daley. Both men appeared to be sporting shiny new watches.
“Yes, yes, all is going nicely in that respect, Prime Minister,” Ian eventually replied. “Mr Daley and I have been exploring some fiscally fascinating trade deals and Dr Martens continues to work with me on the gin production – that’ll be a good little earner, you know.”
“I am interested to hear more about these trade deals,” the Prime Minister narrows an eye just slightly. Querulous huffing emits from the direction of the Chancellor.
“Prime Minister, if I may?” Sir Edd wiped the remainder of cake from his hands and slid a neatly typed paper towards Lucy. “Trade deals are notoriously complicated. I have taken the liberty of summerising for you, here.”
Lucy cast a fleeting glance at Sir Edd’s report. She then cast a slightly more lingering one, as she hadn’t understood most of it the first time. On reading the report in more detail, it appeared to make even less sense.
“That… all looks very good,” a vague attempt to save face. “I’ll leave it in your capable hands, Chancellor. Now, has anyone heard any more about this war with Oxford? I’ve had one drunken phone call from King Boris and not a peep since. Anyone?”
“Wing Commander Tom is gather further intelligence as we speak, Prime Minister,” replied Sir Edd, artfully maintaining his reputation as a man with an answer for everything. “But what does appear to be clear is that war can be effortlessly avoided by handing over Tony Blair to the Oxford monarchy.”
“Bugger that,” snapped Lucy. “The trial of Blair shall be our defining political triumph! I’m not giving that to bloody Boris on a plate.”
“It would seem that effecting that strategy is still some way off, Prime Minister.”
“But why, Sir Edd?” Lucy spluttered. “I want this trial to get a wriggle on. Why can’t we just find a chap with a big wig to declare the bugger guilty?”
“I’m afraid it is somewhat more complicated than that,” Sir Edd replies, with a smile that could melt steel.
“Oh, everything is so bloody complicated, apparently. I don’t know. I’m beginning to think that President Alatorre had a point.”
“Bombing Oxford is not really an option,” said Lord Westington, somewhat disappointed.
“Not even a small bomb? Right under Boris’ throne?”
“Not even the tiniest, bantam-bomb, Prime Minister,” stated Sir Edd, rather firmly. “I strongly advise that we wait for Wing Commander Tom to return with his findings.”
With a lack of anything more sensible to suggest, Lucy had little choice but to capitulate to the counsel of her Cabinet and move on to other matters, such as the possibility of getting some more tea and cake.
Meanwhile, in Oxford, King Boris was about to receive a very special guest of his own…
* Yes, I know this isn’t a real word, but I liked the sound of it anyway.
Who cares if it wasn’t a real word? It is now.
LikeLiked by 1 person
My thoughts exactly. I quite like it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Of cakes, dusters and suitcases. What more can one ask. Get rid of the Cabinet members who couldn’t be bothered to turn up.And as for talk of bombing Oxford …
I now can’t get dusters out of my head, which is ironic really … dusters would get them out of my head. 😃🍻👷
LikeLiked by 1 person
What more indeed! I might sack some Ministers if they continue to avoid my most excellent meetings. We don’t always throw the tea things around, this was a special occasion.
I really like the smell of new dusters, for some reason. And car leathers!
LikeLike
You had me at leather.
LikeLiked by 1 person
😉 cheeky thing 😉
LikeLike
President Alatorre! …got to admit Dan looks the part, but hey don’t all Americans nowadays! King Boris … bet you he gets wind of this and orders a courtier to follow his secretly desired Lucy … well he can join a bloody long queue to get close to you … and Lucy this new endeavour so absolutely you … top draw chest … whoops mean cabinet … may all the balls you deal with be curved. Eric (Ministry of Odd Ends)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dan is the perfect choice for POTUS – do you think there is still time for him to stand as an independent against Trump and Clinton? There are many, many shenanigans to come involving Boris and all sorts of things – stay tuned! But rest assured that your place at the front of the queue shall not be relinquished, not even for Kings and dignitaries! So pleased you are enjoying it so far. I wait those balls with great anticipation.
(That’s a great Ministerial title, by the way!)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Flash reshuffle … Ministry of Anticipation … willingly accepted.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Loving it. You’re in, my dear fellow!
LikeLiked by 1 person
How does one contact someone at the epicentre of the known world? Or is this one so dumb he can’t see your contact box for looking … one has a proposition … of a kind? Eric in a pickle.
LikeLike
I’ve got your email, thanks Eric! A reply is winging its way to you now. (I like pickle)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bum! its there up top … how did I miss it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Easy done, I assure you!
LikeLiked by 1 person
yeay!!
lots of very useful dusters… handy for cleanign up tea and cake I should say!
Sinestery is totally a word…
well it is now…I declare it so!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That’s three of us that say it is a word, so that makes it officially a word now 🙂
It was lucky that the suitcase was full of dusters after Mumsie dropped the tea tray.
Sort of feeling sorry for Farage, but I wouldn’t mind betting there is something afoot…
LikeLiked by 1 person
just because the suitcase was full of dusters doesn’t mean he wasn’t up to something…
he doesn’t strike me as a very trustworthy character…
LikeLiked by 1 person
He is shifty!
(And, back in 2016 – how come he has resigned from UKIP twice but still manages to be leader?! Not his fault entirely, but you couldn’t make it up!!)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh it is ridiculous!
He claims it is temporary but who knows!!
And why is he supporting Donald Trump!?!?!
Why is anyone?!?
LikeLiked by 1 person
It’s just mad! He clearly has his eye on a lucrative career in the States – a bit like a cut-price Tony Blair – but Trump?! It’s an odd association, even by Farage’s standards. The whole thing makes our little tales here seem like the more reasonable option…
(Onwards with world domination!)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I can’t see how any reasonable person could support him…I guess there is a supply of unreasonable americans!!
I think we would certainly do a better job…
World domination plan is go!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
There certainly seem to be quite a few unreasonable Americans who absolutely think Trump is the future of their country! Mind you, there were plenty of Britons who thought the same about Farage. This is a fascinating time to be alive but, seriously, what is wrong with the world? The sooner we are in charge the better, I say.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is terrifying to think that he might actually be in charge of one of the largest nuclear powers in the world…
I wanted to do another post-apocalyptic photoshoot…but I didn’t want it to be for real!!
You are right…the sooner we are in charge the better…can we rule the world from cambridge or do we have to move to the US?
(technically I’d have to move either way…)
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know, it’s a bit like a horror movie! Surely it can’t happen… can it?!
We can certainly run the world from Cambridge, the University have been at it for years, but in a less obvious manner 😉 Don’t worry, we shall find you a swanky Ministerial residence, close to all the best bits and within easy reach of the gin emporium!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Superb!
I am sure any number of swanky residences will become available to us once we are in power!!
and being close to the gin emporium sounds ideal!
LikeLiked by 1 person
There will be loads! We can commandeer some University buildings, they should be fairly suitable 🙂 The world will be a better place when we are in charge!
LikeLiked by 1 person
They sound ideal!
the world will certainly be a better place when we are in charge!
We just need to figure out the next step of the plan…
LikeLiked by 1 person
The next step could be tricky. Put your Good Ideas hat on (the one with the Womble!) and see what occurs. I shall also give it some very careful consideration, over here in this chair. I promise you I am not sleeping – it just looks like that when I am thinking really, really hard 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Of course!!
You have to close your eyes to stop the distractions getting in…and the good ideas leaking out…this does happen through eyes you know… most people don’t know that!
I will get the womble on it…he is a great help!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I knew you would understand – those ideas need peace and quiet to grow themselves!
Good old Womble – he can have a knighthood if he does a good job 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
They certainly do 🙂
Hehehe Sir Orinoco of Wimbledon
He’d like that! He is commonly thought of as the less likely Womble to get a knighthood!
LikeLike
That’s the kind of Government we are! Unlikely!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
that is very true!!
but apparently unlikely things happen these days 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
VERY unlikely things at that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes!!
Absolutely!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Kitchens. First, I don’t like cake. I know. Heresy. I shall no doubt find my P45 in the post. But, with that in mind, I should like to put in a request for something more savoury to mop up the tea. Cucumber sandwiches would do just fine. Please tell Mumsie Morries does a nice organic one.
Of course we could splurge and have canapes and wine/cava/champagne. I am recovering from a lack of appetite hence my enthusiastic interest in all things food.
Dusters on the other hand, leave me totally disinterested. They are an unpleasant reminder that one might have to … dust?
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is perfectly alright – all the more cake for me! Mumsie will be more than happy to make you up whatever you would like, although I’d avoid anything pasta-based as she is terrible at that. Luckily, she will take on the dusting too, while we get on with far more important matters.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on Secret Diary Of PorterGirl and commented:
**LATEST FROM DOWNING STREET** Cabinet Secretary’s trousers ruined… Minister for Defence makes an important announcement… Trade Minister in new watch shocker…
LikeLike
I think that blowing things up would be fun. Sort of. If it was not me.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I would never blow you up, Susan. Other things, maybe, but certainly never you 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I never once imagined that you would.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Phew! I am rather peaceable by nature. Unless I get hungry, of course.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Where’s the blessed bacon?! You can’t run a government without a bacon sandwich! ‘Tis the very fuel of power…I hope Boris doesn’t catch on…has Tony Blair got condoms of bacon nestled in his stomach? Is that why Boris wants him so much?
LikeLiked by 1 person
As the Minister for Bacon I am very impressed by your utter dedication to your role! I shall get Mumsie to search Blair – I’m not touching him, obviously. I bet Boris could be placated – or at least distracted – by bacon, good point. Some sort of bacon-centric offensive is required, I think.
LikeLike
I inhabit the role madam! He may need to be x-rayed, a simple body search won’t suffice if you get my drift. And you may have to sacrifice some of the good bacon for the Boris placation; he’ll spot the mediocre stuff and know something’s up!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bugger you’re right. We had better put the bacon smuggling policy into action immediately. In the meantime I will nip down the Spar and pick up some of their finest thick cut. Good work, my man.
LikeLike
I hate to break it to you, but you may have to frequent an actual butcher; I don’t think we can run the risk…unless WC Tom – or Tom the toilet, but don’t tell him I said that – comes back with evidence to the contrary.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Actual butcher bacon, eh? Well, it’s a sacrifice I shall have to make for the good of the people. I never expected this job to be easy, but… I could never have forseen something on this scale. Our best bacon. Pah. When this is all over I shall build a bacon memorial park in honour of the brave rashers that gave their lives so that Boris might be distracted for a bit.
Don’t be rude about Tom, he will be very cross indeed!
LikeLike
The people will thank you for it in time, though you will come up against some stiff opposition due to the use of tax payers’ money for high quality bacon for mere distraction purposes…stand by your guns! And Tom is a little sausage, bless him.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, the guns are American, obviously, so I’ll stand by them.
LikeLike
You’re a brave woman standing by something made in America…so you’re keeping that special relationship going then?
LikeLiked by 1 person
I thought it best to keep them onside, although the ‘special’ relationship will not stretch so far as to the supplies of best bacon. No doubt I will find alternative ways to keep it ‘special’.
LikeLike
I’m not a jealous man, but if naked trampolining with the Americans could be kept to a minimum…though I do understand that in your position desperate times call for desperate measures.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Blimey, things are not that desperate, old chap. The Americans can do what they want on their own trampolines, but the trampolines of Cambridge are sacrosanct! We shall be trading arms and insults, that is all.
LikeLike
My apologies, I think it was the thought of losing all that good bacon, sent me into a bit of a tizwoz, and I had a scary dream last night too, never helps.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I know, the bacon situation is indeed troubling. Don’t worry, I shall instigate a special pig breeding programme that will guarantee us supplies of mega-bacon. You, of course, will need to over see this. Sorry to hear about the dream, dare I ask as to its nature?
LikeLike
Well it started off pleasantly enough, there was even a touch of nudity, but then the girl and I nearly got locked in a caravan by a bunch of crazies, as we ran through the weird wood streets there was some kind of monster that would pop its head up from the floor…and I lost my phone!
‘Twould be a pleasure to watch pigs breeding! I hear its quite the sight. When I was at uni, one of our lecturers had an odd spiral shaped pointer that he used, it wasn’t until the second year that he told us it was for artificially inseminating pigs!
LikeLiked by 1 person
That sounds scary, especially the bit about losing your phone. What terror!
Your lecturer sounds delightfully bonkers. Hopefully our special pigs will be happy enough to get on with business the old fashioned way.
LikeLike
They were all nuts!
Old fashioned way it is, I might even use the special pig love happy mating song…that I’ll now have to write…our pigs will be the happiest in the land!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This sounds very much like a song I could really like. I suggest a rousing chorus to really get the pigs in the mood. They shall be the happiest and most delicious in the land – nay! – the very world. I strongly believe that it is through bacon that world peace will finally be achieved.
LikeLike
I would love to hear that sentence spoken at a UN convention in the very near future!
The pig is an intelligent creature; it may require more than one song in order to moodify all of them sufficiently…I shall gather together all the pig related love songs I can find, as a sort of a birthing playlist as it were.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Good work, Babbage. I suppose this makes you the Minister for Makin’ Bacon! I have grand visions of a slew of Casanova pigs, wooing the weak-kneed sows and so creating our porcine master race. Another bonus, of course, will be the super sausage that can accompany the mega-bacon. I think next we might need some kind of epic hens to provide our breakfast eggs. But first things first. Breakfast means breakfast.
LikeLike
All that talk of food got me a little peckish too! Bit I like where your mind is going regarding the porcine and poultry master races! An ancestor of biddy would be ideal, and a bona fide French cockerel…and it seems that Fidel Castro is the ultimate wooer of the ladies, we can maybe pick up a Cuban pig for a good price…and thank you for the revised title 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ah, the return of the mighty Biddy the hen! She is an excellent choice of stock, due to being possibly immortal. The fact that she is a fictional character will not hinder us in the least. I didn’t know that about Castro, what a sly old fox. If we combine a Cuban pig with their famous cigars, we can breed pre-smoked bacon! A marvellous efficiency.
No need to thank me about the revised title – that is the secret of great Government – the ability to adapt and evolve to the ever changing circumstance.
LikeLike
Pre-smoked bacon…no wonder you’re leading the country! And fictional schmictional, all fictional characters are based on a truth, I shall re-establish my chicken contacts from days of yolk (old poultry pun there) and track down old biddy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Excellent work, old bean. We shall be the best-fed nation on earth. What more could a nation ask?
LikeLike
Weekly rubbish collections…people get quite militant about that!
LikeLiked by 1 person
The pigs can eat the rubbish. Problem solved!
LikeLike
Not our prize winning bacon producing Cuban ones though…we’ll get French pigs for the rubbish eating.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Okay yes, good idea. Hey, this is rather fun.
LikeLike
Isn’t it just! Things are getting solved left right and centre and no one’s getting oppressed!
LikeLiked by 1 person
well, now I know where you spend all your time… and energy… HA!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is time and energy well spent, I assure you.
LikeLike
I will come more often once my house is put back together
LikeLiked by 1 person
It takes a lot of resources…i.e. bacon!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ity takes you… being a big ham.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I will take that as a compliment 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think you should 🙂
LikeLike
I knew you’d be behind me
LikeLiked by 1 person
Absolutely, dear chap!
LikeLike
With the emergency bacon…and the everyday bacon…and the sacrificial bacon…and the bribery bacon…and the bread…and the sauce…
LikeLiked by 1 person
And a quality sausage also.
LikeLike
A bacon and sausage sandwich is hard to beat.
LikeLiked by 1 person
you might as well… even with the typo
LikeLiked by 1 person
E loke u lypo
LikeLiked by 1 person
e pluribus unitarian
LikeLiked by 1 person
Et tu Brian
LikeLiked by 1 person
Eat tutu, Desmond.
LikeLiked by 1 person
… also, is it true, Desmond, that you had a barrow in the market place?
LikeLiked by 1 person
… or was it a borrow… or a burro?
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is true that I had a barrow in the market place; that I had to borrow and have a burro pull it, and that I called myself Desmond the demon trader of Denton, dealing solely in dentures.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Actually, I think I had a pair of dentures off you once. Left them on a train. You don’t have any more, do you?
LikeLike
Why yes I do little lady! Did you want the ones with the fangs again?
LikeLike
Actually I’ll take a set of the hillbilly ones – I was thinking of going on the pull in Northampton later and they really go for that look.
LikeLike
They are a discerning bunch those northamptonites! Consider it done, and have a lovely time, and don’t forget to take your antibiotics!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Which you no doubt ripped from the mouths of pigs and ferrets.
LikeLiked by 1 person
How very dare you! I am not a monster! I make them myself from crushed rhino horn and tiger bone, quality stuff.
LikeLiked by 1 person
As long as you also eat the whole rhino and tiger, I have no problem with that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Oh yes, every bit gets consumed in one way or another, either orally or through the handbag market
LikeLiked by 1 person
good enough
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on Kate McClelland.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Kate 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re welcome Lucy :0)
LikeLiked by 1 person
*sobs brokenly* I just can’t get over the cake tragedy! Could nothing be salvaged? Not a single cream puff?? Oh, it’s all too, too sad…
LikeLiked by 1 person
The first great tragedy of this Government, I feel. I suspect there may have been one or two survivors, but no one was brave enough to delve into the lap of Sir Edd to perform the rescue. Scenes of this great horror have been beamed across the nation, so that all may weep at the loss of cake. Nevertheless, Mumsie has vowed to nip down the shop for more, and the healing process can begin *sobs*
LikeLike
What?! Your economy will never survive with that attitude! You shouldn’t be buying them in, you should be making them and exporting them! Think about the deficit! How will the good people of Cambridge feel when you slap on a cake tax?! Politicians! Tchah!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hahahaha! Fear not, there will be no cake tax. No cake tax people! I would get Mumsie to make them, but they would be dangerous to the population. All efforts are currently in gin production, but once that is up and running, the cake factories will fly up all over the place. And after that, well, all anyone cares about is cake and gin so I might have a small holiday 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Just the fact that the English get to use the word ‘Mumsie’ makes you cooler than us.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Aw! That’s just what I call my mother. So does everyone else. She quite likes it.
LikeLike
me too
LikeLiked by 1 person
I had a strange feeling Nigel was only trying to sell us some dusters but has anyone actually checked what he may have added to them? These sound bugs can be invisible to the eye these days. I’d check the inside of the cakes and the teapot as well. I bet he’s gone off to report back to Boris.
I’ll bring some fairy cakes to the next meeting Prime Minster.
LikeLiked by 1 person
How incredibly perceptive and insightful, Minister! 😉 I shall draw your attention to the new post – ‘Meanwhile, In Oxford…’
LikeLiked by 1 person
I shall be checking it out…just as soon as the dusting is finished, Prime Minster.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good work, Minister! Dusting is most important.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Any idea how to remove cake stains from the shagpile?
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bloody tricky things, cake stains. A bit of baking soda and a stiff brush might shift it.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Reblogged this on firefly465.
LikeLiked by 1 person
This is so wonderfully surreal! I am chuckling hard inside, only due to sitting on a bus and didn’t want to draw attention to myself. Such incisive wit, madness and prescient insight. Rather spooky.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well thank you very much, you kind thing! Delighted you enjoyed it, bus journeys can be so dull. Very much appreciate you stopping by 🙂 x
LikeLike
‘Sinistery’ should be in the next issue of the Oxford English \Dictionary! Along with a law that says cakes have to be big!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I agree completely, Kate! Sinistery is too good not to be a proper word 🙂 And you know my feelings on cake size 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person