Become an MP

Lunching with your friend Trader Alan, you slump back in your chair and cradle a glass of merlot.

“What’s up big man?” says Alan.

“I’m sick of it,” you say. “Sick of the whole facking thing. Expense fiddling, systemic corruption, distance from the man in the street. It makes me wanna puke.”

“Jeez,” says Alan. “Surely you knew it was going to be like that when you started?”

“Not the city, fool!” you exclaim. “MPs. Our MPs! All on the make. I don’t like it, don’t like it one bit. It leaves an unpleasant taste.”

“So does cunnilingus,” says Alan.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’m just saying,” says Alan. “Cunnilingus can leave an unpleasant taste. So can MPs. Both are necessary evils.”

“I never knew you felt that way about cunnilingus.”

“You never asked.”

“We’re straying from the point. I feel strongly about this. I think I can make a difference. Alan, I’m going to run for Parliament.”

“Are we having a pudding course?”

“I’m bloody serious! This country is crying out for dynamic people with the courage of their convictions.”

“I bet they’d have quite a bit to say about yours – what was it, handling stolen goods and ABH?”

“That was a long time ago.”

“It’s not a great start.”

“Plenty of politicians have a criminal record. It would add to my mystique.”

“Which party would you stand for?”

“I’d run as an independent.”

“What are your policies?”

“Bring back hanging, national service and the cane.”

“That’s a joke, right?”

“Can I count on your vote?”

“Waiter – can we have the bill please?”