UK Politics
Des delivers the noodles of death
Published 04 December 2006
Tessa enthuses about Seb's latest over-the-rainbow moment, Gordon serves up a hot Japanese dish and John says sorry for the black slaving of trade ships.
Scene 1: The Treasury. Tessa Jowell demonstrates her latest low-cost Olympic plans with a new model of the site. Gordon picks up the velodrome and chews it angrily.
Gordon: And what's the news on the aquatic centre?
Tessa: Fantastic progress. Seb had an over-the-rainbow moment and we've decided to use the River Lee. It flows conveniently through the Olympic Park and comes at zero cost to the taxpayer.
Gordon: So you're holding the swimming events in a ditch full of old prams?
Tessa: Yes, it's the sort of facility our swimmers train in. Home advantage. Lots of medals.
Gordon points to a large gap in the plans.
Gordon: What happened to the warm-up stadium?
Tessa: White elephant. Big, big savings there. Which is great news, you see. I've just come from a very encouraging session with the planners who tell me the high-speed transport links won't be ready till the next London Olympics but one - in 2212.
Gordon: Oh, great.
Tessa: It is great, yes, because it means the 2012 athletes can jog straight to the stadium from Heathrow. As they reach the starting blocks, they'll have a nice racing sweat on them. Perfect.
Gordon: Yeah, next you'll be telling me this little model is life-size.
Tessa: Hey, now that's the kind of hallelujah thinking that Seb really -
Gordon: Tessa, you brainless lightweight, take your Evian water and piss off. You're sacked.
Tessa: Excellent, Gordon. What a positive face-to-face this has been. Thank you.
Scene 2: A central London restaurant. Gordon perches on a stool. Enter John McDonnell.
Gordon: Hi John, good to meet you. Now, this leadership thing. You know you haven't a chance.
McDonnell: Maybe, but I can raise some interesting points during the campaign.
Gordon: The only points you'll raise will be Cameron's approval rating. The party can't afford to seem divided. Come on, what's your price for stepping aside?
McDonnell: A windfall tax on City bonuses and a minimum wage of £8.40.
Gordon collapses laughing.
Gordon: Haha, good one, John. Straight out of the 1980s. Great sense of humour.
McDonnell: I'm serious.
Gordon: Taxing the City? That's the politics of greed and envy.
McDonnell: Which is why I thought it'd appeal to you.
Gordon: Oh bloody hell, all right. Here's what I'll do. I'm already planning a windfall tax on advances for cabinet memoirs. I'll announce the new City taxes at the same time. And the minimum wage. Let's say eight quid?
McDonnell: OK. Done.
Gordon: Excellent, John. Well, let's tuck in. This one's on the Treasury.
McDonnell: Mmm, don't fancy sushi. Bloody yuppie food.
Gordon: But it's great for the brain. Oh, hello, what's this?
The chef has appeared. He wears a beard and dark glasses and bows stiffly to McDonnell.
Chef: Gleetings. Chef's compriments. Spesher nooders for Mr McDonner.
Gordon: What a surprise, John. Free noodles!
The chef places the noodles down.
McDonnell [suspicious]: Thanks. After you, Gordon.
Gordon: Er, what? No, thanks.
McDonnell: You love Japanese.
Gordon: Dieting . . . Sarah's orders.
McDonnell: I insist. Just a forkful.
Gordon: Keep back.
McDonnell: Lost your appetite? Come on. A nibble won't hurt.
Gordon: Help! No, no.
Gordon retreats. McDonnell advances on him with the noodles.
McDonnell: What's wrong? They're not radioactive.
Gordon: Stop him!
The chef rushes at McDonnell, who throws him over his shoulder and pins him to the floor. McDonnell whips off his beard.
McDonnell: Des Browne! Huh! Eat your own poison!
He aims the plate at Browne's face.
Browne: No, John. Please! Not the noodles of death.
McDonnell tosses them aside.
McDonnell: See you at the hustings, Gordon.
Scene 3: The Cabinet Room. John Prescott is drafting the government's apology for slavery. He improvises into a Dictaphone.
Prescott: Being as this nation, known formerly then as the United Kingdom as it then was, was to its grotesque shame involved in the black slaving of trade ships, we in the cabinet feel honour-bound to issue a statement on the half of these British islands to millions of historic Africans who were force-led into captivity, exposed to degradation treatment, incarcerated and portered willy-nilly to the colonies of the New World and planted on cotton work against their better judgement. We sincerely apologise. Thank you.
He rewinds and listens to his speech.
Prescott: Bloody hell. Try again. [Presses "Record"] Draft 67. Ahem. This former nation of the United Kingdom, having been shameful and deliberate in the participation of the trade slave, is well overdue in regretting its former actions, even though this was owing in no small part measure to the historic times then pertaining, nevertheless the former peoples and their offspring of Africa frankly deserve a full and free . . . oh bollocks. [He throws the Dictaphone in the bin]
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