Cabinet Office, yesterday morning…

Boris: Look, this damnable shit-storm about last year’s Christmas party just won’t go away, its proving to be worse than bloody Covid. The public feel cheated, that oik Starmer is banging on about ‘one rule for them and one for us’ like he’s an extra from an Orwell novel and most importantly, my ratings are plummeting like the fucking Belgrano. So we need to do something. Something to show the public how sorry we are and how our actual ‘crime’ was not a major incident at all.

Cabinet Minister: Yes, Prime Minister, we do. Do you think a really sincere apology, coming clean with all the facts and then implementation of a regulatory and disciplinary committee to oversee all of Number 10 would be appropriate?

Boris: Yes, it probably would be appropriate but I’m actually thinking more along the lines of a cover-up, excessive mitigation, making a big storm about something else to deflect interest, and throwing someone under a bus to take the heat. I’ve already taken the pre-emotive measure of having everyone’s names in a hat here, so, Sajid, if you would do the honours… (holds out the hat)

Sajid Javid: oh… errrr… well, I’m not totally comfortable with this, Prime Minister, I think that morally, ethically and properly, you should be the one to take responsibility and present the correct face to the public.

Boris: pick a fucking name, Javid, or I’ll find another lackey to fill the ‘diversity’ quotient in cabinet.

Sajid, picking a name: It’s ‘Allegra Stratton’… Sir.

Boris: Ok, well that was a very productive meeting. Would you see that the bitch is well and truly hung out to dry and I’ll get back to putting on a hard hat and hi-viz jacket to save the nation’s economy. Good day everybody.

You could almost feel sorry for Allegra Stratton. She was in genuine, real tears as she made her statement from her front door. And she was credible. She really did feel so sad and sorry for cheating the public out of their Christmas whilst she was enjoying hers. She was socialising whilst so many were lonely. They were partying in a pandemic whilst other were dying. And she was desperately mortified by it all.

So desperate that it took an entire year for this genuine sorrow to manifest. In fact, as ever in politics, what actually triggered that immensely emotional remorse was getting caught. That’s what took the year. Then the floodgates opened.

I’m almost at the point as recommending the assassination of Boris, for the good of the nation. Almost.

Happy Thursday

A xxxx