New Statesman - It was one of our rogues after all

Tony shows some kids who's really cool, John considers a nuclear dilemma, Gordon and Cherie are plunged into darkness, and Vlad helps them all solve the mystery.

Scene 1: No 10. A class of inner-city kids and their teacher have gathered for a seminar on gun crime. In baseball cap and gold medallion Tony trots into the room, shadow-boxing. He punches the air.

Tony: Whassup guys! Gun crime seminarrr!! Yeah! Everybody make a noise!!! [Silence.]

Tony: Right, er, hope you're all cool. I'm Tony and today we're talking about guns. Basically, guns are sooooo not a good idea. Look at the kind of dudes who carry them, yeah? Spotty inadequate saddos. Not tough, not clever. Just weak, right? Bunch of twats who get bullied into carrying a piece when they see their mates carrying one too.

It's not about being strong. It's about fear, paranoia and ignorance. Guns are gay. That's my message. So, apologies for the lecture. Over to you. Feedback? Come on, guyyyyys? Input, yeah?

Teacher: Tony?

Tony: Hey, brother.

Teacher: You say it's about fear, paranoia and ignorance.

Tony: Yes, my friend, a vicious spiral we have to break out of.

Teacher: Isn't that true of our nuclear deterrent?

Beat.

Tony: Right, and that's all we've got time for, dudes. Increase the peace!

He flings his baseball cap across the room. No one tries to catch it, and it clumps forlornly on the carpet. Exit Tony.

Scene 2: The Cabinet Office. Tony and John Reid are poring over the authorisation to build a new generation of nuclear subs.

Tony: I can't believe I'm doing this.

John: I know, I know.

Tony: I hate nukes. If it were up to me, I'd disarm unilaterally.

John: Hang on. It is up to you.

Tony: No, no. My hands are tied.

John: Rubbish. You're the PM, you're just posturing.

Tony: I'm not. This is a terrible crisis of conscience. I wasn't just a token member of CND. I was a hardline militant.

John: Me too.

Tony: But I was a streetfighter, John. And I was persecuted. At a rally in Trafalgar Square in 1972 a policeman grabbed my leaflets and shoved them down a drain. But I didn't care. I carried on blowing up the balloons. That's the kind of guy I was. Oh well. God forgive me.

He wipes away a tear and signs the document.

John: That's the easy bit. Now let's decide where to stage the nuclear test.

Tony: Do we have to? This just gets worse.

John: Here's my idea: New Mexico.

Tony: Come off it. You think George Bush'll let us use his country to try out our stupid weapons?

John: Well, we let him use our country to try out his stupid foreign policy.

Tony: Not a chance.

John: Then we need some faraway corner of the British Isles -

Tony: Mmm, totally bereft of human life.

John: - where our core vote has already collapsed.

Beat.

John and Tony: Wales!

Scene 3: Blair Force One. Tony is flying to Washington to discuss the civil war in Iraq. An aide passes him the phone.

Aide: The Russian president.

Tony: Hi, Vladimir.

Putin: Hey, Blair. You send cops to Moscow. Why? Spy guy who die, it not me, it some other guy.

Tony: Come on, Vladimir. Be reasonable. The British police are independent of the government.

Putin: Serious?

Tony: Of course.

Putin: You crazy! I not believe. You make trouble for me. OK. Me too. Gas, finish. Close down straight way.

Tony: Er, hang on Vladimir, let's talk about -

Putin: No way. Bullshit. I send FSB make big problem for you. You see what happen.

Click. Dial tone.

Scene 4: No 10 the following evening. Without Russian gas, the country is being hit by random power cuts. Gordon sits at the PM's desk working out how to blame Tony for the crisis. A parcel arrives from the Russian embassy. Gordon reads the label.

Gordon: "To the Prime Minister". Could be toxic. Better test it.

He adds three words to the label, and calls out.

Gordon: Cherie-eeee! A freebie for you.

Cherie sprints in.

Cherie: What? Where? Where's the freebie? Where?

Gordon [points to the parcel]: To the Prime Minister "and his wife".

Gordon tiptoes behind a cupboard as Cherie tears open the package.

Cherie: Caviar! Scrummmeee. Carole, get the Tuc biscuits!

Tony enters.

Cherie: Hi Tony. Beluga from the Russian embassy.

Tony: Don't touch it.

Cherie: What?