The Morning After The Night Before

It was long before noon when Chancellor of the Exchequer Ian Risk and Trade Minister Simon Daley met in clandestine quarters in the garret of Number Ten. There was no possibility of returning to Ian’s residence next door, as the seat of Government was crawling with Wing Commander Tom’s agents from the Cambridge Intelligence Agency. Ian cupped a mug of coffee that had long since turned cold and peered out of the small, smutted window that overlooked the street below. A high wind threatened to tear an elderly lead drainpipe from its holdings and rattled the eaves with some vigour. Ian watched as a spiteful smattering of rain hurled itself against the window pane, the outer elements perfectly mirroring his mood.

“The Blair thing is a bit of a bugger,” Simon remarked, tracing a circle in the accumulated dust of a rickety table. “On the one hand, it’s a good distraction from the National Economic Security and Recovery Act that Sir Edd is so tetchy about. On the other hand…”

“On the other hand, the last thing we need is the CIA poking into Cabinet affairs,” concluded Ian. “You know what they’re like – they start looking at one thing and all of a sudden they start seeing all sorts.”

“Do you think they might start looking at the Botanical Gardens?” asked Simon. Ian fell silent, lifting the mug to his lips. He winced at the taste of cold coffee and placed the mug carefully on the grimy table.

“There’s no reason why they should,” he replied, haltingly. “But then the last thing those chaps need is a reason.”

“But what can we do? We’re stuck here,” Simon folded his arms.

Ian turned back towards the window and observed for a while the throng of the insectile populous scuttling along the street below, blissfully ignorant of the scandals and atrocities swirling behind the walls just feet from where they walked.

“Well, my dear chap, we shall just have to find a way to get ourselves unstuck,” Ian turned round, smiling. “Won’t we?”

***

Much later, Prime Minister Lucy Wastell climbed out of her shower, bitterly regretting the events of the night before. The murder of her prisoner Tony Blair was unfortunate and annoying, but her real regrets lay with the attempt to perform Shirley Bassey on karaoke and the opening of that ancient bottle of creme de menthe that Mumsie found in the shed. There was a reason it had been consigned to the shed and that was probably due to the fact that it was more paint-stripper than beverage.

“I say, are you going to be long?” a voice called to her from her bedchamber. The thumping in her head took on a more urgent tempo.

“Hang on, Boris, I’m just going to brush my teeth.”

With no one permitted to leave Number Ten, Lucy found herself playing host to a number of Oxford dignitaries, including Boris, King of Oxford and his duster-selling sidekick Nigel Farage. They had both insisted on sharing the PM’s room and as a gracious host, Lucy felt it churlish to refuse. Besides, the ever present Snetterton had taken up position in the corner, awaiting any instructions from his master, and Cabinet Secretary Sir Edd Evans-Morley had made camp in the armchair, keen to ensure that no further peace treaties were brokered during the night.

The hit of synthesised mint revived Lucy somewhat as she ladened her toothbrush and, leaning over the sink, set about removing the contents of a rabbit hutch that had somehow accumulated in her mouth whilst she was asleep.

“Morning!”

From the bathtub emerged a soapy Farage, mercifully covered quite liberally in apricot scented foam. Lucy jumped up, spitting toothpaste all over the mirror.

“Bloody hell!” she exclaimed. “How long have you been there?!”

“I’ve been here all night!” came Nigel’s chirpy reply. “You woke me up when you got in the shower. Honestly, I haven’t smelled so bad since my tree-dwelling days so I thought I’d better spruce up a bit. This bubble bath is just lovely, you know.”

Actually, Nigel did smell pretty good and his freshly scrubbed cheeks were endearingly pink. Lucy just wished that the time she spent with visiting heads of state involved less nudity. As if reading her mind, Boris, King of Oxford took it upon himself to provide the antithesis of the PM’s wishes by taking determined strides into the bathroom wearing nothing but his crown. Right behind him was his butler Snetterton, displaying frightening loyalty by apparently being at the ready to accompany his master into the shower. To all-round relief he was wearing some sort of wetsuit, although the collection of brushes and buffers in his arms was cause for concern.

“Oh, are you already scrubbed-up?” asked Boris, sounding a little disappointed. “Snetterton here said he would be more than happy to give you a good rub-down once he’s buffed up the old crown jewels here, isn’t that right, Snetterton?”

The look on Snetterton’s face suggested that this was news to him, but he retained a dignified silence.

“Suit yourself!” Boris pushed past Lucy and bounded into the shower, followed by a remarkably less enthusiastic Snetterton. “Boris is going to smell like a rampaging platoon of ponies farting rose petals by the time he gets chukka-to-chukka with that Tom chap. Who knows? He may find himself so impressed he might want to sign a peace treaty of his own! Huzzah!”


109 thoughts on “The Morning After The Night Before

      1. I mean it Lucy, always nice to find other writers who weave things strange and wonder. With a large vein of humour running through it all. Regarding the realities of politics, it feels like we’re living in the twilight zone.

        Liked by 2 people

      1. Getting everyone drunk is often the answer, I find.
        Good lord, I don’t think the poor woman has it in her! Mind you, our current Foreign Secretary undoubtedly has so she can send him to do the negotiating.

        Liked by 2 people

    1. Haha! It is dawning on me that Nigel and Boris are naked more than they are dressed. I am seeing if I can get through the whole story without ever putting clothes on Boris. Just be grateful this isn’t illustrated 😉

      Liked by 2 people

      1. You know, I am *this* close to putting out a call on social media for two chaps to play Boris and Nigel, must be happy with on-screen nudity. But – there are two drawbacks:
        1. We will never get anyone to do it
        2. If we do, they will probably not be the sort of people I want to be naked with on camera.
        But leave it with me!

        Liked by 3 people

      2. it might just be worth it…

        especially if we followed and interluded the whole thing with gin and Bernards 😀

        I am pretty sure interluded isn’t a word…but wordpress spell check likes it for some reason…

        Liked by 1 person

      3. It is certainly a word now 😀 I shall use it many times until people think it is normal!!

        I don’t trust the spell check either…it doesn’t think Bernards is a word…

        *looks suspiciously at screen*

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      4. I have used it once already! I interluded with a cup of tea *proud face*
        Bernards absolutely is a word – we invented it last week! Blasted spell checker – when we rule the world I shall throw the bugger in jail! Never again will it dare to put a red wiggly line under Bernards.

        Liked by 1 person

      5. Yeay!!
        I interluded my work this morning by tipping protein shake all over myself… it wasn’t the sort of interlude I was looking for… but I got to use the word 😀

        yes!! imprison the spell checker!! down with wiggly red lines!! creative spelling is the way forward…

        Liked by 2 people

      6. Later, I will interlude lunch with a wee and maybe interlude the wee with a sing-song. I hope the protein shake smelled nice or we shall have to put you in the bath with Nigel! 😀
        One of my first acts will be to re-write the dictionary (Cambridge English Dictionary, naturally) to include all the cool words that spell checker says are not real. Freedom for random words, I say – freedom!

        Liked by 2 people

      7. Luckily it smelled of crunchie…and I had a spare set of clothes…
        no bath with Nigel for me!! 😀

        woohoo freedom for creative words!!
        Maybe interluded is already in the Cambridge dictionary… my reference is the Oxford English Dictionary…which is probably untrustworthy and written by naked people…

        incidentally that pesky spell check thinks woohoo is not a word O_O

        Liked by 1 person

      8. Smelling of crunchie is perfectly alright in my book, but are you sure you don’t want to share his apricot suds? 😉 Or perhaps hop in the shower with Boris and Snetterton? If I had to chose, I think I’d take the bath with Nigel as the other two seem to be taking rather too many props with them.
        Haha – ‘written by naked people’ – this is without doubt the truth as we have clearly seen that people from Oxford get their kit off all the time. And woohoo is a word – it also says that ‘crunchie’ and ‘haha’ are not words either. Spell checker is an illiterate fool.

        Liked by 1 person

      9. hmmm…i think you may be right about the bath choice…props sound worrying and I think at a push I could squash Nigel if necessary…

        Exactly!! The Oxfordians are demonstrably naked nearly all of the time!!
        Haha is a word…as is crunchie!!

        it is madness!!

        Liked by 1 person

      10. I’m not sure I could squash Nigel but I reckon I could get a good arm lock on him if needs be – although grappling with a soapy Nigel brings its own problems, of course. I fear that Boris would squish me entirely so I’m not risking that. Especially as with him and Snetterton already in the shower things could be far too intimate.
        Once Oxford attain civilisation and manage to clothe themselves, maybe then they can start looking at their woeful dictionary!

        Liked by 2 people

      11. hmmm…the whole situation sound perilous to say the least!!

        I think clothed they might see the merits of such words as interluded, Bernards, woohoo and crunchie!

        otherwise they might find themselves in prison with the spell checker!

        Liked by 1 person

      12. I agree, we should definitely lock up anyone who agrees with the spell checker and not with us. I might need to appoint a Minister for Words to oversee such things. Actually, let’s be efficient and make it Minister for Words & Bernards. Perfect.

        Liked by 2 people

      13. Not quite as much fun, though, and it would be a position much less senior than the hugely important Good Ideas & Gin role, naturally. But they could work their way up if they keep in our good books 🙂

        Liked by 1 person

    1. For some reason, Boris and Nigel seem better naked. Less threatening, perhaps. I had considered an in-depth, description-laden post about the shower but decided against it. Even my stomach may not be strong enough for that.

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      1. Oh they are very real… the poor things are just my puppets in this political parody, trapped within my silly (and mostly naked) little world until I see fit to release them. Which, if the blog goes well, might be never. HA!

        Like

      2. Good to see Will getting in on the action again – especially as he was probably quite badly traumatised by his last outing. Good on you, Will, for getting back in the saddle!

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  1. “Ian cupped a mug of coffee that had long since turned cold” — the story of my LIFE! And I loved the image of the rain hurling itself. Get that butler to clean the toothpaste splatters off the mirror, btw – your plate is already quite full.

    On house arrest of sorts – with THIS crew? If it lasts much longer you are going to have to change the title to “Murder of the Cabinet!” I suggest a little nip or so to keep yourself sedated.

    Fun read, as always.
    xx,
    mgh
    (Madelyn Griffith-Haynie – ADDandSoMuchMore dot com)
    – ADD Coach Training Field founder; ADD Coaching co-founder –
    “It takes a village to transform a world!”

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Why do drinks go cold so quickly? And no mention of biscuits, although I suppose those two have far more devious things on their minds.
      I am rather thinking I should keep Snetterton at Number Ten. I like the idea of a butler and he must be fed up with King Boris. When the investigation is over I might steal him 🙂
      xx

      Liked by 1 person

      1. SURELY he’d prefer working for you! (careful tho’ or you’ll find yourself employing cooks and housekeepers and gardeners and such to give ole’ Snetterton a staff to buttle).

        And I have no answer for the cold tea & coffee mystery. (If it stayed warm longer, I’d miss the only exercise I get some days, however – computer to microwave and back)
        xx,
        mgh

        Liked by 1 person

      2. I bet he would love it! He and Mumsie would get on well, I think – perhaps there could even be romance in the air? Or he could buttle her if he is missing having staff (that sounds a bit rude!)
        You are right – cold tea & coffee is the universe’s way of getting us off our backsides. Damn you, universe!
        xx

        Liked by 1 person

      3. Regardless of what the blasted OED says (or doesn’t say), I insist that ‘buttle’ is indeed a verb and perfectly describes the general activities of a butler! It’s a great word, too 🙂
        That’s IT – I am definitely going to try and squeeze a butler/Mumsie affair in there – but they will have to conduct the affair fully clothed as there is already far too much nudity in this story as it is 🙂
        xx

        Liked by 1 person

      4. Oh my! Poor Mumsie would never be able to walk! But that could be an advantage to Snetterton, she wouldn’t be able to get away 😉 I like the idea of a cape and mask for him, very heroic! This could be the greatest love story since Romeo & Juliet 🙂
        xx

        Liked by 1 person

      5. Haha! This is somehow even worse than the PM/Boris/Nigel encounter! (Probably because Mumsie is based on my actual mother – poor woman! Luckily she has an excellent sens of humour – and doesn’t understand the rude things anyway 😉 )
        xx

        Liked by 1 person

      6. Jaws was a better thriller/horror movie than many realize. When I first saw it on the big screen, people quickly began covering their eyes from the first notes of the cue that the shark was swimming below unseen. Dun-dun … dun dun …

        And I have NEVER heard so many screams every single time the inevitable happened.

        SO many Americans over 40 still refer to thoughts of impending doom as “hearing Jaws music.” Great metaphor for the politics in both our countries, huh?

        To bad sharks aren’t attack dogs, tho’. It would be a blessing indeed to be able to sic them on bad guys who need to be stopped — at least in movies and books anyway. Can’t do the karma from blood on my hands otherwise. 🙂
        xx,
        mgh

        Liked by 1 person

      7. Jaws music will always be the most terrifying sound known to mankind, I think. I haven’t seen the film for years as I just can’t can’t take the tension! Such a very effective film.
        The bad guys will be stopped – surely there must be a caped crusader of some kind about to fly in to the rescue? If not, I’ll wear my underwear over my trousers, fling on a cape and come on over 🙂
        xx

        Liked by 1 person

      8. I’ll be waiting. Even if your rescue fails, seeing you in the get-up you describe would lighten my mood considerably.

        Maybe we ALL need to wear something similar on Inauguration Day, waving our free ice cream bars. 🙂 WTF?!

        I was previously considering a black armband, but this would be so much funnier (and less work than a clown get-up) ‘Cause if we can’t laugh we will most certainly go insane during the aftermath of THIS election (those of us who weren’t already crazy enough to vote for him, of course – too late for them, I fear).

        xx,
        mgh

        Liked by 1 person

      9. Haha! Brilliant! If everyone dressed up that would be fabulous! I’m not sure what the free ice cream bar is all about but no doubt many people will be grateful! If I am not considered too foreign by your country I shall come and affect a valiant rescue – although I fear I may be barred as I have some Muslim friends so could be considered a risk 😉
        xx

        Liked by 1 person

      10. Not sure if this is a real thing or some influential blogger’s hoax, posting something that might go viral, but it has.

        From what I read, DT has promised free ice cream bars on the day he takes office – and has organized ice cream vendors for the give-away — also telling other countries that any who participate would be considered “friends of America.” ::cue circus music::

        Muslim friends? Oh no, my dear – waaaay too threatening to the safety and security of the-one-who-would-build-a-wall to EVER allow into America. According to his plans for “his first 100 days,” increased vetting will commence at once.

        If I am to be able to travel abroad, I suppose I must develop a list of “approved” friends to stay with myself, if DT has his way. (He hasn’t disclosed who will be doing the “approving” or by what standards, but you can bet the permeability of our borders is in serious danger). Walls keep people IN as well as out, doncha’ know. Run away – run away!
        xx,
        mgh

        Liked by 1 person

      11. I did read about the free ice cream thing and, although free food is always brilliant, I did think it was an odd thing to bring up whilst campaigning to be President.
        I wonder if I could be an approved friend? Although I have multi-cultural friend and family, I am British and therefore a bit posh. I might be okay, he might let you out to visit me 🙂
        xx

        Liked by 1 person

      12. It’ll be a crapshoot, for sure! Maybe the idea that you are a famous author who might blog about him negatively if he did NOT approve you *might* do the trick — although he seems to follow TwitWits most closely – so maybe a campaign there? hash tag Sir Donald approves Porter Girl????).

        As much as he clearly craves public recognition, he is surely a bit of a snob, I’m thinking, so the posh bit might work too.

        Can you get a letter of recommendation from the Queen? A ranking [WASP] member of Parliament? Some Lord or Lady with a huge estate? (or anybody willing to steal stationery, forge a signature and be ready to vouch over the phone from their fake identity?)

        Silly me – you’re blonde! All you REALLY need is a sexy pic in a Playboy Bunny outfit.
        xx,
        mgh

        Liked by 1 person

      13. Haha I shall start taking sexy pics at once!! I could get a couple of MPs to approve me, I reckon, although the Queen might be a long shot. There is an old family friend who is proper landed gentry – makes the royals sound like a rabble of sailors – she would do the trick! And if we say you are a long lost cousin of mine we should both be in the clear 🙂 My dear friend we have a PLAN!!
        xx

        Liked by 1 person

      14. Let us pray that we don’t “gang agley” – although winning the Bobby Burns award would be a wonderful consolation prize – either way.

        As my dear late mother once said to me, immediately after I learned, half-way to NYC, that the apartment I thought I had secured with a deposit was just rented out from under me,
        “I hope you don’t mind if I don’t worry, dear. You always seem to land on your feet somehow.”

        May it FOREVER be the case! xx, mgh

        Liked by 1 person

    1. I thank you very much – high praise indeed. Boris and Nigel are wonderful to write! Sort of like pantomime dames on acid. When I heard the calls for Farage to be sent ‘upstairs’ I had to laugh. Pretty sure he called for the House of Lords to be abolished. Reality really is more ridiculous than fiction these days!

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Hello Lucy. Good to visit you again. I am now back in from the cold. It is actually colder here but I am surrounded by seagulls so not complaining you understand. Full-timeness is going well although somewhat interrupted by interrupty things like you wouldn’t believe.
    So I am now catching up with your cabinet matters which are amazing.
    All the very best. Chris.

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Chris! Great to hear from you. So glad all is well, if a little chilly. I’ve got my woolly undies on myself, I assure you. Interrupty things are the very worst. Delighted to have you back. Big hugs.

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