Tony embraces a bruvver, Leo doesn't like Grumpy Gordon and Prescott tries a new vice.
Scene 1: Early evening. The Blairs’ flat. Tony is telling Leo a bedtime story.
Tony: Once upon a time, in a mythical kingdom called Scotland, there lived a big, grumpy miser who wanted to be king.
Leo: I've heard this one, Daddy. I want a Thomas the Tank Engine story.
Tony: But I want to tell you a Grumpy Gordon story.
Leo: Don't like Grumpy Gordon stories.
Tony: Yes, well, I do. And I have to relax as well. So Grumpy Gordon ate too much starch and he had trouble walking because of the massive chip on his shoulder. Remember? We heard about that in last night's story, "Grumpy Gordon and the Endogenous Growth"?
Leo: What?
Tony: You remember. It started off as a really tiny chip but it got bigger and bigger and -
Leo: Can I go to sleep now?
Tony: No.
Leo's head tilts and he closes his eyes.
Leo: Zzzzzzz.
Tony: OK. Nightie night. And tomorrow we'll hear about how Grumpy Gordon went on holiday to America and when he got back he found the energy tsar building a nuclear power station in his constituency.
He tiptoes out. Leo's eyes snap open. He checks that Tony's gone, then picks up his PlayStation.
Scene 2: A young hoodie arrives at No 10, evading security by pretending to be Euan Blair. He makes his way to Tony's office, knocks and walks in.
Hoodie: Hey, man. Wassup?
Tony: Er, who are you exactly?
Hoodie: Me? Speaker, innit.
Tony: Sorry?
Hoodie: Of the yoof parliament.
Tony: Really? Good. Er, well, delighted to meet you.
Hoodie: An u the Prime Minister, yeh?
Tony: That's it.
Hoodie: Safe, blood.
Tony: Er, yes. Safe. Very safe indeed, er, blood.
The hoodie offers his fist, which Tony taps with tentative knuckles.
Tony: Marvellous, er, excellent teeth. Very shiny.
Hoodie: Solid gole, man. Shinier dan yours, yeh?
Tony: Yes. I mean, yeh. Yeh, blood. [He tries to continue in street talk.] So what would you like . . . er, wot is u cum 2 aks me?
Hoodie: I here 2 aks u is u reddy to hug da hoodies?
Tony: Sure, I am. Er, man.
Hoodie: Sweet.
They embrace. The hoodie deftly picks Blair's pocket and removes a plump wallet. He cracks it open in front of Blair.
Hoodie: Hey man, u is minted!
Tony: You little thief!
Hoodie: U accusing me? No, man. I givin it back 2 u.
Tony: Bollocks. You bloody people, you're all the same, aren't you? Security!
Two cops burst in. They seize the hoodie and pull back his hood.
Tony: Oh my God! Cameron!
Cameron: Jus call me Dave, innit.
Tony: What are you playing at?
Cameron: Nuffin, cept showing the bruvvers u ain't reddy 2 embrace d'underclass, like I is.
Tony: Yes, yes, very good. Where'd you get those gold teeth?
Cameron: Well, mah bitches at . . . sorry, a couple of the girls on our all-women shortlist hired them from Securicor. [He removes a false bridge and a concealed camera from his mouth.] Caught you on DVD. Classic Blair hypocrisy.
Tony: Hand over that disc.
Cameron: Sorry. Property of Central Office.
Tony: Right. Kick him out.
Scene 3: Cameron strolls through a park towards Central Office. A fat hoodie leaps out of a tree and floors him. The hoodie snatches Cameron's portable DVD player, stows it in his duffel bag and heads for Downing Street.
Policeman: Stop there, crim.
Hoodie: All right, Frank. It's only me.
Down comes the hood. It's . . . John Prescott.
Policeman: Ah, in you go.
Prescott marches into the Prime Minister's office.
Tony [on the phone]: Cheeky little sod's bound to leak it. Better put out a statement. "Cheap stunt by a desperate opposition leader" and so on.
He puts the phone down.
Tony: Ah, John. It's after ten, you know - the Bunny Club's open.
Prescott: Ha bloody ha! Now you're making a statement first thing tomorrow saying that I'm the most valuable member of the cabinet.
Tony: Or what?
Prescott: Or this.
Prescott pulls out the portable DVD player and a stack of recordings. He activates one. On the screen we see Prescott astride Tracey Temple, on all fours, wearing a saddle and trying to buck him off.
Tony: Well, well, first croquet, now rodeo. Is there no limit to your talents?
Prescott: Sod it. Wrong one.
He empties out the duffel bag and dozens of DVDs scatter everywhere.
Prescott: Here it is.
He activates another disc. We see Prescott in chunky steel manacles and whipping a half-naked Tracey Temple handcuffed to a bed.
Tony: Nice set of chains, John. Pick them up from the Museum of Slavery in Texas?
Prescott: Bollocks. It's got to be here somewhere.
Tony spots the incriminating DVD and slyly pockets it.
Tony: Somehow blackmail's not your vice. I'd stick to roulette, overeating and boffing the seccies. l
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