‘How’s it going Dom? Are you holding the fort? Jolly good up here in Scotland. Cripes, it hasn’t even rained! And the blighters haven’t got at me once!’
‘The midges?’
‘No. the bally paparazzi.’
‘That’s good to hear. That’s why we sent you up there. You can’t do any damage.’
‘But bloody hell Dominic, don’t you think I ought to be doing something? Crikey, the country is falling apart. Bloody pandemic is taking off again, the economy’s in tatters and education is falling apart. It’s a bally crisis Dom. Don’t you think I should be on the telly reassuring the good folk of Britain?’
‘Why do you think we have the worst record in the world? I told you to keep a low profile but you insisted on going off script and messing everything up.’
‘Now then Dom, that’s a bit rich. It was you who went off on a jaunt to that bally castle and threw a spanner in the works.’
‘Just keep your head down and don’t say anything.’
‘But Hell Dom, they are saying that I’ve put a bunch of incompetent twits into office – a fireplace salesman running education, and Baroness Dido Harding – a supermarket checkout girl running the new health scheme – they’re calling her Dildo Harding after she was useless running the Track and Trace. Don’t I need to tell the blighters in the press how good they are? haec ultima tempora! They are saying these ministers are all nepotistic twits. We need a bally leader to er, er, er stand up and be counted.’
‘I’ve told you before – stop this silly Latin stuff!’ Shake of the head. ‘Don’t you dare go near anyone or say anything! Do you hear me!’
‘Cripes Dom.’
‘I mean it. It is no good telling the world that you are not appointing incompetent people when we are. We got rid of all the competent ones we’re just left with the raving Brexiteers who support you! They are twits! It is nepotism! They are raving loonies. But at least they are loyal even if they are a bunch of Eton twits.’
‘Now you put it that way Dom, I see what you mean. We have been scraping the barrel a bit, haven’t we? But don’t the bally public want someone to gee them along, give them a bit of jolly blue sky and hope?’
‘No. You keep opening your mouth and making promises you can’t possibly keep. Soon, even the daft ones will realise that you don’t know what the hell you’re talking about.’
‘Gosh Dom – you do spoil all my fun.’
‘Go and enjoy the remotest parts of Scotland – the remoter the better. Leave everything to me.’
‘Righto Dom – time for a wee dram and another little kip. What-o.’
And so day 147 came to pass. Once again the government hasn’t yet delivered its massaged number of new cases but yesterday it had jumped to 2566! Looks to be taking off. Scotland has cases among school kids. That doesn’t bode well for a safe start back at school in three weeks! How safe is that going to be?
There’s bee a dip in both Brazil and the States though Trump is at it again promoting some untested drug as if it is a panacea. What a wreckless twerp!
Today I’ve been walking up my hill and playing Huey ‘Piano’ Smith and the Clowns. That cheered me up.
I’m over three-quarters of the way through my rewrite of Farther from the Sun. I hope you’re enjoying the extracts. Let me know what you think!
So – stay safe everyone!
Ah, satire to muse a smile and close-out the day. Nicely done, cheers Opher!
Heard on the grapevine BoJo the mendacious was camping – nay, glamping: when did he ever rough it? – in Scotland, where he’s headed north passing Brokenwind and pitched-up lying-low, in Twatt.
Have a pleasant evening.
DN
It’s an ill wind that blows nobody good! I hope the twat stays in Twatt.
Quite so, but alas, unless the midges get him, the clown will be back in the ring: the circus will go on.
DN
How much are the midges asking?
Lol devolution from the U.K, or they send BoJo back. Sounds a reasonable request, don’t you think?
DN
Whoa – a very difficult decision! Such a shame to see Scotland go.