Scene 1: Tony’s office. An aide is fixing the PM’s appointments.
Aide: And you're opening the new Wembley Stadium next week.
Tony: Oh yeah. Great image. Years late, massively over budget and the parent company's in liquidation. Let's give it to Patricia Hewitt.
Aide: I'll go and break the good news.
He exits, narrowly missing Leo who charges in wearing his Harry Potter costume and riding on a broomstick.
Leo: I can fly, Daddy!
Cherie runs in.
Cherie: Please, no, darling. That's dangerous.
Leo: I can fly. Watch!
He charges out again, narrowly missing Ed Balls, who is arriving with a sheaf of papers.
Balls: Hello, chaps?
Cherie freezes. Tony gives him a frosty smile.
Tony: Hello, Ed.
Balls: Glad you're both here. Got the plans for the tenth-anniversary celebrations.
Tony: What's the catch?
Balls: Oh, Tony. So cynical. Ten years of Labour government. It's going to be a wonderful extravaganza. All your old chums from the Cool Britannia days are going to take part.
Tony: Good, OK.
Balls: Ben Elton's kicking things off with a sketch about the soaring tax burden called "We Will Dock You".
Tony: Laughing at ourselves . . . I like it.
Balls: Then Damien Hirst will unveil a commemorative dead shark suspended in embalming fluid which symbolises . . . well, you can work it out.
Tony: Right -
Balls: Tracey Emin has contributed a tent embroidered with the names of a dozen sacked ministers entitled All the colleagues I have ever screwed. And Tony Robinson's doing a special edition of the Time Team where they dig up your reputation and rebury it in a plague pit . . .
Tony: OK. I get the idea . . .
Balls: . . . and Bernie Ecclestone's going to give Leo a junior Formula One racing car which cost exactly a million pounds. And as a finale, you and Cherie will be presented with a celebratory cake - a sponge, of course - carried in by ten angelic children born on 1 May 1997.
Tony: Don't tell me. They've all got incurable diseases.
Balls: Yes. Their parents believed in you. That's one problem you've managed to eradicate. It's not just any cake, of course: it'll have funny corners, a bit like Iraq. And while you're slicing it into three pieces a curtain will sweep back to reveal Antony Gormley's new sculpture, The Angel of Death.
Tony: Very good. Anything else?
Balls: Nope, not unless you want to make one of your "heartfelt" speeches.
Tony: So who's funding all this garbage?
Balls: Let's see. Probably not the Labour party members. There aren't any left.
Cherie: Bloody Gordon!
Balls [exits chortling]: Toodle pip.
Cherie: Laughing at us! He won't get away with this.
Scene 2: Later. Cherie is on the phone, speaking with her posh southern accent.
Cherie: Good afternoon. There's a most frightful medical emergency. My dear husband is experiencing chest pains.
Tony enters.
Tony: No I'm not.
Cherie: Shhh. [Into phone] Luckily he hasn't had an attack before but he's rather podgy and quite Scottish. If you know what I mean. Deep-fried Toblerones for breakfast. And the only exercise he gets is running upstairs into the attic whenever there's a crisis. [Beat] Our address is 11 Downing Street, London SW1. [Beat] See you in a minute.
She puts the phone down.
Tony: Cherie -
Cherie: It's our last chance. We send an ambulance round to Fatso's place - the press'll latch on to it - and bingo. Massive headlines: "Gordon's secret heart condition". He'll never make PM.
Tony: Very good. Just one snag. He's moved into No 10. We're in No 11.
Cherie: What? Oh bollocks! [She dials 999 again. Beat] Hello, can I cancel that ambul- . . . Hello? Oh, I don't believe it. What kind of third world country is this? I dial 999 and I get a pop-tune!
Tony: What is it?
Cherie: "Things Can Only Get Better".
Tony: Bastards - they do things like that on purpose. I should have privatised the whole public sector on my first day in office.
Off, ambulance sirens approach.
Tony: That was quick. Must be the end of a shift.
Tony trots outside as the ambulance screams through the Downing Street gates and skids to a halt outside No 11. Tony greets the paramedics.
Tony: Hi, guys. False alarm, I'm afraid. Probably the Daily Mail pulling one of their stunts. [Peers uneasily about for cameras] Now, I know you chaps are all heroes, but do us a favour and piss off.
Above him a window opens and Leo climbs out on to the ledge with his broomstick.
Leo: Daddy, I can fly!
Tony [glances up]: What? No -
Leo jumps out. He crash-lands on to Tony, gets up and scoots indoors.
Leo: I can fly!
The paramedics rush to attend to Tony who sits up rubbing his head.
Tony: Get off. Leave me! I'm fighting fit.
Scene 3: London news-stand.
Newspaper-seller: "Blair collapses in Downing Street". Pictures!
