Author’s note: This was my third submission to the Brains Trust and, lo, it was the lead article in the next edition. It was almost certainly the Heir Apparent pun that did it. Suddenly, I was someone. I had status. People opened doors when I arrived and a table at the Ivy was permanently reserved for me. Happy days
In a surprise move, the Conservative Party announced today that every member of the parliamentary party had now put themselves forward for election as leader.
In a rowdy and frequently bad-tempered press conference all the members packed onto the stage to formally announce their candidacy. Michael Ancram, struggling to make himself heard above the noise, bawled: “This shows the Conservative’s commitment to democracy. No voting stitch-ups or spin doctoring here” He stepped closer to the microphone and continued to yell. “This allows us a period of cool and calm reflection and a chance to define our future in a peaceful and co-operative manner. WILL YOU PLEASE SHUT THE FUCK UP?”
Mr. Ancram was then temporarily drowned out by cries of “Vote for Me” before managing to re-establish his presence with the use of a megaphone, a set of steps and a large baseball bat. He continued explaining his own plans for leadership “I will be standing as the unity candidate behind whom the entire party can pull together – unlike those other divisive little shits” he screamed
Mr Ancram then gave up the floor to Iain Duncan Smith after it appeared that Mr Duncan Smith tipped him off his steps. Mr Duncan Smith then announced that he was also proposing his Labrador, Winston, for the post of leader. “With a name like that, he is sure to appeal to grass roots Tories” he enthused “And let’s face it, he is a damn site more photogenic and has a lot more hair than William Hague”
Commenting from the auditorium after being temporarily thrown off the stage, Mr Portillo dismissed this idea “It’s a ludicrous suggestion” he exclaimed, “I am clearly the heir apparent of the hirsute wing of the party, mainly because my hair is so apparent. Winston has totally misunderstood the issues. I mean he has all over body hair when all that is required is a luxuriant coiffure such as my own.”
Meanwhile, David Davies emerged from under a pile of bodies on the stage from where he had been attempting to get himself recognised. Mr. Davids went on to assure voters that, contrary to rumours, his own wife would be able to pick him out of an identity parade provided he wore some sort of distinguishing feature, such as a fluorescent name tag. Mr. Dafyd, who is reported to have been receiving image consultancy from a shadowy figure known only as ‘Mandy’, then finished with a rousing appeal to the voters “I am a quitter, not a fighter…oh damn it. Peter, can you prompt me, darling?”
Ken Clark, who had now wrestled control of the megaphone from Michael Ancram, outlined his main policy thrust. “We must remove the European poison that has infected our party. I regret the dominance of Europe as the issue at the heart of Conservative politics. We should stop talking to ourselves about Europe and start talking to the electorate about the things that matter to them.” explained Mr. Clark, puffing on a Gauloise and dressed in the beret, stripy blue and white jersey and string of onions that have become his trademark. He finished his speech by encouraging his supporters to join him in a rousing chorus of La Marseillaise
As riot police finally arrived towards the end of the press conference, a spokesman for the party did, however, quash rumours that Foster the Vulture had been nominated for leader. He remarked, “Foster is obviously adept at escaping from tricky situations and has attracted a lot of media attention, but have you seen him? I mean, he really is bald.”
Sex and Drugs and Growing Old 