Well another week of canvassing has passed as the search for the elusive voter continues with only one day to go. I don't mind telling you that all this being nice to people malarky is beginning to wear a bit thin. I call a meeting of my campaign team at the Bigamist and Fancy Piece. According to the party treasurer, the battle fund, which consists mainly of a generous donation from my old mum's weekly pension that I lifted from her handbag while she was watching Celebrity Oven Cleaning, is all but spent - so we're on halves.
While we are honing the final part of our manifesto - no swedish students on the underground, a free coke with every meal for the under 5s, caravans for all - Quentin's mobile starts up. After a lot , 'yessing' and 'uh-huhing' he comes off the blower all excited. Apparently, we've acquired a new member who's jumped ship from one of the other parties. Some bloke called Kilroy-Silk who's given up trying to rid the country of johnny foreigner and wants to throw his lot in with us. Bouyed up by this news, we plan the final push which will be to address a rally of the faithful in the back bar of the Double Standard followed by group postal vote rigging before the last collection at the Mount Pleasant sorting office.
Isn't democracy a wonderful thing?
1 comment:
I love the pubs you hang out in. Any need for a folksy pop singer like myself at these? I do hope you were successful in your attempts to democratize the process. If not perhaps the PM has a place for you in the Ministry of Pop Idolatry.
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