“There’s no need to look so bloody smug, you curly haired bastard.”
But the Chancellor was wasting his breath. The Cabinet Secretary’s default setting was smug and the unexpected turn of events this afternoon had given him good reason to be.
“This will put an end to any idea of that ridiculous peace treaty,” mused Sir Edd, with imperious self-satisfaction. “Felicitous circumstance indeed, wouldn’t you say? Perhaps we can all get back to passing the time as best we can, enjoying the privileges of statesmanship and whatnot.”
“This is most certainly not felicitous… thing,” retorted Ian, his fury relieving him of his ordinarily splendid vocabulary. “We’ll be lucky if this doesn’t restart the war with Oxford.”
“Oh, my dear fellow – but war is very good for business,” smarmed Sir Edd. “I intend to do very nicely out of all this and if you were any kind of a gentleman you would do the same.”
“The kind of gentleman that profits from war is not the sort of gentleman I want to be.”
“Simple politics, my dear Chancellor – politics and business.”
Sir Edd refilled his sherry glass and offered Ian the same. He reluctantly accepted and followed Sir Edd back into the pantry, where Snetterton was being held under armed guard by Wing Commander Tom. Also gathered were Snetterton’s lord and master, Boris King of Oxford, accompanied as ever by Nigel Farage, who had finally been persuaded to put his trousers back on. He was keen to make the most of his spray tanned legs before they faded, but a murder investigation was not the most appropriate place to be parading, no matter how slender and willowy his appendages appeared. The Prime Minister was present, of course, with Minister for Good Ideas & Gin Dr Martens at her side. This was certainly an occasion where good ideas would be required in abundance, although not quite as significantly as gin. Whilst Dr Martens was working on the former, she played for time by being proficient in the latter. Mumsie was there too, embarrassed by being caught once again in a state of undress by the most senior members of the Cabinet.
With everyone returned to a state of approximate decency, Wing Commander Tom was about to instruct Snetterton to reveal to the Government further details of his recent confession. His admission to his part in the murder of Tony Blair was quite a surprise, none more so than for Snetterton himself, it seemed. The usually stoney-faced butler looked decidedly pale and was being comforted by Mumsie and a large glass of Cambridge Special Damson Gin. Dr Martens had furnished him with an extra measure, as she was secretly very impressed with him.
“Come now, Snetterton – I want to hear all about how you shot Tony Blair,” proclaimed Tom, hands on hips and chest thrust magnificently. “You’ve confessed to it, now tell us how you did it. And why.”
Snetterton cleared his throat and finished his gin, immediately extending a shaking arm in the direction of Dr Martens, who duly furnished him with another inordinately generous slosh.
“He was just such an utter bastard, sir. It seemed like the right thing to do.”
“Can’t argue with that,” nodded Lucy, sipping her gin.
“But where did you get the gun?” asked Tom.
Snetterton faltered and his darting eyes told the more observant of those present that all was not as it seemed. Although Tom’s illustrious features were, as ever, hidden by the brim of his fedora, it was probable that he was frowning.
“Was it this gun, here?” Tom continued, brandishing the offending weapon. “The one found hidden by the bins?”
“Y-yes, sir,” stammered Snetterton, his voice cracking with emotion. “That’s the very gun.”
“Ha!” roared Tom. “Got you. The gun wasn’t found by the bins at all. If you had shot Blair and hidden the weapon, you’d know that. You didn’t shoot him at all, did you?”
There was silence from the seated – and by now fairly inebriated – butler.
“I don’t understand,” said Lucy. “Why would you say you shot him when you didn’t?”
There was an audible – not to mention dramatic – sigh from Sir Edd. Now it was Ian’s turn to feel smug.
“Buggering blunderbusses, will somebody please explain what’s going on? Cripes!” Boris was even more confused than usual.
“I’ve got it,” said Nigel “He’s protecting the real killer. But who? And… why?”
“Um…”
To the astonishment of all concerned, Mumsie stepped forward, nervously twiddling the strings of her apron.
“He… he’s protecting me,” she said. “I shot Tony Blair.”
The briefest moment of silence fell whilst the shock took hold, quickly followed by gasps all round and a hearty ‘bravo!’ from Boris.
“Mumsie! But why?” exclaimed Lucy, leaping to her mother’s side. “And why would Snetterton take the blame for you?”
“Because… we are in love,” replied Mumsie, her eyes bedewed with the beginnings of tears. “And also because, my darling, Snetterton… is your father!”
Wow, the story is taking wild turns now!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It has gone a little crazy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
And of course the Minister of Family Values disapproves about the PM’s muddled family affairs.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I feel that we must blame the butler for this. It’s always the butler’s fault.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Of course, when the PM was on the way Snetterton should have made Mumsie “an honest woman” … not this clandestine love of his. Minister of Family values disapproves!
LikeLiked by 1 person
There is an explanation – which we will get to hear shortly – but I fear that you will not approve of that either! You will have to step in an keep a closer eye on things in the next series… 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Of course I will not approve. I have family values – no family, mind you, only values.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha that is brilliant – I am going to shamelessly steal that line 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I feel honoured that you feel it worthy of stealing.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is a genius line, love it!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mumsie? Noooi! I didn’t see that coming. This is becoming rather convoluted, hurrah I say.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Naughty Mumsie! I look forward to her explanation, I must say. Hurrah indeed!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Didn’t see that coming! My imagination playing with loose ends and circumstances you wouldn’t want a Dad to see!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Well, quite! The loose ends will be either all tied up or cut off (!) in due course. I await Mummies’ explanation with great interest, although some trepidation…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Loose ends best contained cutting off a bit extreme!
LikeLiked by 1 person
There are extreme times, dear chap!
LikeLiked by 1 person
“The kind of gentleman that profits from war is not the sort of gentleman I want to be.” ::sigh:: If only someone in office in America had the balls to say something similar to the Orange Menace (who invented smarming btw).
But Mumsie? And the amazing reveal of the PM’s true parentage? I wasn’t expecting either of those events. I await the next surprise, as always – as I put the Tink and myself to bed. (early, since it is still clearly dark outside).
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!”
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sir Edd represents all that is wrong (but sadly true) about politics, whilst Ian is the type of person we really need! Further shocks to follow, of course 😉 Big hugs to you and Tink
Xx
LikeLiked by 1 person
Shocks to follow – my poor heart! Hugs from me – puppy kisses from Tink.
xx, mgh
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ha! the butler certainly did it! Maybe not the murder, though. Wonderful. Yes, caught me by surprise, that.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ooooh good, I am delighted. Snetterton is a dark horse!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Bit of a stallion, apparently!
LikeLiked by 2 people
Apparently so! Still – that’s what every girl wants in a father. Maybe.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Dodgy ground, Lucy!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I knew it!!!!! But I am surprised that Nigel hasn’t invested in a few pairs of those Velcro trousers that strippers wear…not plot related I know.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Sort of is plot-related, when you think about it. Actually, I’m going to make the acquisition of such trousers a main plot point for the next series.
LikeLike
I think it is plot related…
in fact I have a suspicion that the trouserlessness is really the whole plot 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
You’re right – this whole thing is nothing without the trouserlessness. I am sorry it had to be Boris & Nigel – but they are so good at it. I might dispense with trousers altogether for the next adventure. They only get in the way!
LikeLiked by 1 person
excellent…more trouserlessness and gin I say!
possibly not in the company of Boris and Nigel mind you…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Quite right – they can be trouserless by themselves!
LikeLiked by 1 person
They can…and almost certainly will!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I take it all back; the trousers are without doubt a metaphor for the old system of governance, all MPs wear them! and so with the ushering in of the new order, all trousers must inevitably be dispensed with! Nigel is a trailblazer. (just look what private eye are missing by not replying to my email!)
LikeLiked by 2 people
oooh blimey…metaphorical trousers at 8:30 am O_O
LikeLiked by 1 person
I would say it’s too early for all that but then again it’s always the right time for metaphorical trousers!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Hmmm true…
and I do have a cup of coffee
I am not sure we should encourage the entire government to go trouserless mind you 😱
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good lord, no. Ian bases his whole life around his choice of trousers, after all. And I dread to think what lurks beneath Sir Edd’s…
LikeLiked by 1 person
my word…it doesn’t bear thinking about!!
How would we know how posh everyone was without being able to assess their trousers!
LikeLiked by 1 person
But now I am thinking about it!! (Sorry Sir Edd!)
Quite right! I wore green trousers to Cambridge yesterday, so I was moderately posh *chuffed*
LikeLiked by 1 person
hehehe…now I am too O_O
Ooooh!! That is indeed moderate to high poshness… I wore rainbow coloured leopard print leggings to the gym this morning…I am not sure what that makes me…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Some sort of goddess, I reckon!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
hehehe… 😀 I can live with that 😀
I was a very noticeable one…in a gym full of people wearing black and grey!!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Poo to those people! I bet they don’t even have wombles in their hats. The philistines.
LikeLiked by 1 person
they know nothing of style and appropriate headwear!!
or legwear…
although one of them drives an Aston Martin so may be secretly posh… with red trousers squirreled away somewhere… mind you rich is not always posh…
LikeLiked by 1 person
Very true – some rich people are common as muck. Also I think proper posh people don’t go to the gym, they keep fit by thrashing their servants and chasing poor people off their land.
LikeLiked by 1 person
ahh yes…all the peasant chasing is enough to keep anyone fit!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Good for the peasants, too!
LikeLiked by 1 person
It is win win 😉
LikeLiked by 1 person
Yes… the trousers were always meant to be a metaphor, that’s obviously what I meant. Nothing salacious about it at all. (Haha! Their loss, old chap!)
LikeLike
Blimey, you two have gone from a trouserless government to inventing a new social class defined by their rainbow leopard print leggings! Stuff gets done with you guys!
LikeLiked by 1 person
And this is exactly why we should be the real Government. No messing about, just getting the job done one trouser at a time. We are what this country needs. The EU wouldn’t stand a chance.
LikeLike
We were born for this 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Ooooh! Awesome…and revealing…in a trousers on sort of way!!
I think it calls for more gin!
LikeLiked by 1 person
This calls for so much gin that we may have to recall some of the consignments we have already sold. I shall get the Trade Minister on it at once!
LikeLiked by 1 person
that is certainly true…
revelations like this can’t be handled gin-less!!
It is also important to know that there is a lot more gin waiting in the wings just in case…
we may not need it straight away, but knowing it is there is important!! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Even so, I feel I should get Ian working around the clock to keep up with demand. And I’m afraid you will have to work around the clock on ‘quality control’ – which will involve a fair bit of tasting, just to make sure he gets it just right 😉
LikeLiked by 2 people
hmmm…if you insist…
I will get on it straight away…
We may need approval from a higher authority though, you’ll have to help!
LikeLiked by 2 people
There is no higher authority than the Prime Minister! Well, possibly Sir Edd but don’t tell him that 😉 I approve all essential actions required in the production of gin – and to prove I really am a woman of the people I shall roll up my sleeves and help you out with the necessary 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
In these times we all do our duty…
I am sure the people will be grateful that even the Prime Minister is helping out with quality control!
The gin must be tested! There is no question!
LikeLiked by 1 person
I always say that the sign of a good leader is someone who wouldn’t ask anyone to do something they wouldn’t do themselves. Lead by example, I say!
LikeLiked by 1 person
A fine example it is too 😀
This is why it is obvious that we were born to rule!
a willingness to do anything to ensure the gin supply is safe…
LikeLiked by 1 person
We shall have to get Boris to lend us his crowns. We are clearly most deserving of them 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
Absolutely!!
We must have them! We are both deserving of them and have better hat collections which need crowns to make them even more awesome!!
I suspect we are far more deserving of crowns than Boris…
LikeLiked by 1 person
I suspect even Snetterton is more deserving of a crown than Boris…
LikeLiked by 1 person
hahaha…that is probably true!
LikeLiked by 1 person
Mumsie!!!! Never!!!! Daddy!!!! Goodness!!!! Nigel’s legs?!?!? Aarghhhhhh!!!! *faints*
LikeLiked by 2 people
More drama than every episode of Eastenders ever made ever! Don’t worry – Mumsie won’t go down for this. I’ll make sure of it 😉
LikeLiked by 2 people
Reblogged this on O LADO ESCURO DA LUA.
LikeLiked by 1 person
Omg! LOL. Love it. 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Haha! Thank you m’dear! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person
The drama here, I wasn’t expecting all of this! I can jut imagine this being played out in a Spitting Image type sketch. Very entertaining dear lady! 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
I’m really pleased that no-one saw this coming. You’re right, it would work well a la Spitting Image! Absolutely delighted you enjoyed it my very dear fellow x
LikeLiked by 1 person
I think the BBC should see this my dear x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Probably not left wing enough for the Beeb. They turned down the reboot of Yes Prime Minister. Mind you, it was shit.
LikeLiked by 1 person
It was shit, it was going to be as the original could never be bettered, Nigel Hawthorne was amazing as were the others.
LikeLiked by 1 person
I agree, the cast really made it – they were incredible. Loved Nigel Hawthorn and have a weird crush on Derek Fowlds.
LikeLiked by 1 person
That is weird. It was a classic!
LikeLiked by 1 person
X
LikeLiked by 1 person
🙂 x
LikeLiked by 1 person
Arghhhh OMG. That was my immediate reaction. It’s on the same level as “Luke I am your Father.” “Noooooooo”. love it.
LikeLiked by 2 people
Brilliant! That was exactly what I was going for. Fab!! 😀
LikeLiked by 1 person