“Our sovereign debt position is vulnerable to oil price volatility, if the Dow Jones crashes…”
Boring. Boring. Boring. Andy Burnham had not become U.K leader to be bored.
In a sudden fit of Leadership, Andy abruptly slammed his MacBook shut. “BAZINGA!” He cried, suddenly breaking into an impromptu, surprise, chaotic rendition of the ALS Ice Bucket Challenge, seizing an icy-cold steel bucket of water, with ice-cold ice-cubes in it, from under his desk and pouring it over himself, ruining his laptop in the process.
“Its Nice to See you, to see you…” Andy was on TikTok. Andy had gone viral. Mounting the large Ant and Dec themed space hopper kept permanently in the new, zanier, Number 10; Andy proceeded to… well… *bounce* I suppose… to his next boring meeting, recording himself in the process with the iconic selfie-stick.
BWOING BWOING BWOING BWOING
In one of the antechambers (if thems even the right word for it!) a campaigner for youth poverty was waiting to meet Andy.
“Prime Minister, banning young people from PiP while ringfencing pensions some what puts paid to your claims of sympathy…”
BWOING BWOING BWOING Britain’s funniest Mayor had no time for such trivial questions – “OPPAN GANGNAM STYLE!” He cried – flattening the young carer beneath the advance of his space hopper, breaking every bone in his body.
Andy bounced behind the doors of the Cabinet office, which magically closed behind him and then, with a final comedy ‘bounce’ propelled himself off his short-term mode of transport — “WA-HOOOOOOOO” – flying through the air, Andy grabbed the chandelier and swung from side to side in a ‘comedy manner’, before landing directly in the seat at the head of the table.
“Right, Cabinet, guess this is it, where was I – why do people hate us?”
Andy looked at the glum faces sat around the table.
“Well, Prime Minister, have you considered banning the under-16s from owning pets?” Asked David Walliams.
Andy wrote that one down.
“With the greatest respect to David.” Said Kevin Spacey, “I think the public expects a bit more slap for their tickle. We should seriously consider a manifesto-level promise of abolishing the Inheritance Tax for all but the poorest, while making up for it with a new ‘Baby Tax’ applied to first-time parents under the age of 45. That way, people won’t be taxed when they are dead but then they are alive instead.”
Andy nodded. Kevin’s donnish advice was always welcome.
“We need a new story on the world stage.” Said Russell T. Davies, “As well as cutting taxes for the rich and raising them for the poor, polling shows that the public are bullish for new wars in which large numbers of people may die.”
Boy George had looked like he wanted to say something since Andy had entered the room, now, he said it. “If we are going to start a war, we should also use the army to police civil disturbances, ideally with high civilian casualties.”
“Lets not,” said Gary Glitter “Take our eyes off the ball.” The room fell silent. “With Christmas coming up, we should think long and hard about banning it. Polling shows most non-university rooted sensibles consider it holds too many ‘behavioural distortions.’”
“I think we’re all missing the forest for the trees here.” Mused Joseph Kony, “Everyone agrees that the public hate the idea of being taxed twice, especially when they’re dead and can’t do anything with the money, while being alive is, lets face it, a bit of a Farage-fantasy.” Kony let out one of his long, low gusts of sardonic laughter. “So the solution, it seems, is simple. We kill everyone under 30 in order to relieve the burden on those who will die sooner. Particularly the vulnerable.”
Everyone applauded. Andy applauded. The Cranks had been owned again. Reform will implode within two hours.
But he still felt something was missing. What were they doing wrong? Why did nobody like him?
“Sue, what do you think?”
Sue Gray punched Andy in the face. He fell of his chair. She dragged him up and shook him by his shoulders.
“Andy, Andy, Andy…”
“Sue, Sue, what’s wrong?”
“Andy, look around you.”
Sue spun Andy round to face the room.
Sue asked Andy what he saw. Andy was confused, gesticulating, bits of mild spittle escaping from his mouth.
“David Walliams, U.K Comedy. Kev Spacey, U.K Comedy. Boy George, U.K Comedy.” Andy was baffled. “Joe Kony, U.K Comedy.”
“Sue, these are all U.K Comedy Legends. This is what you have to do for people to like yer.”
“Andy,” Said Sue, softly this time, adjusting his collar, “That’s the problem. Nobody actually likes these people. Nobody actually likes you. Polling companies aren’t real. You can’t actually govern a first-world country by just doing everything an imaginary 85 IQ person might like.”
Andy’s lip trembled, he’d never considered this before, the government was in peril
“I guess, I suppose. Sue. Well, I was actually thinking of a reshuffle. Someone to replace David’s role actually.”
Sue blinked. “Well, what are you waiting for, give him a ring, Andy.”
Andy flipped open his 2010 BlackBerry touch. “Hi – Hi, yeah, eyeup. Yeah. Actually. Just Hello thanks. Is. Is he in.”
“Ohohoho now then, now then, so you wants Jimmeh to join the Cabinet howsabout that then.”