Oh Goodie! I do like a good old General. Election that is… Nothing like those piles of paper to warm the blood. Little mountains of votes, just for me and my mountain is always the tallest of the mountains. I am an Everest amidst a sea of hillocks.
‘Hillock’, I said. You clearly misheard.
Anyway, good old May (Tezza to her chums) has said that she also fancies a bit of a General, so off we go. First past the post, reigns to the ready, Whips whipping what they need to whip.
You see, I hail from Canterbury. That’s where I reign. The thing about Canterbury is that even if I beat a small scraggy child in the street, said I supported the ambitions of Kim Jong-un and mowed over an old lady with my motor, they’d still elect me. Fools.
[What’s that Kate? Of course, I’d love a bit of crumpet. Yes, the more butter the better. Layer it on.]
Policies? Not a clue sorry. Next question.
Retire? Never. When I see the pearly gates, I’ll hand in my notice. Next.
Opposition? Ha. Well, Labour did come close once, but those were the dark days, you know… [shudder] Blair. I suppose if they really did their act together and form some sort of alliance with those Liberal Demo-prats and Greenies, they might just mount some sort of challenge, but even then, I’m pretty sure I’d romp home.
‘Romp’, I said. Do you enjoy romping? What do you mean that’s an inappropriate question?
Anyway, must go. Got to dust off the rosette and take off my slippers. Kate! Kate, can you help me pull of my slippers. Always nice to have a woman to hand, if you know what I mean [snort].
See you in 2022.
[Warning: Mr. J. Brazier is a fictional creation. Any similarities to persons living or dead is entirely coincidental]