UK Politics
The young prince takes charge of the power cuts
Published 02 April 2007
Harry wants a little action, Tony gives him some paper clips and Gordon overrules Tony, leading Harry to see some true action.
Scene 1: Tony’s office. Prince Harry enters.
Tony: Morning, sir.
Harry: Yo, Blair! Call me Harry.
Tony: OK, Harry. Now we need to talk about a very important matter.
Harry: Champagne? Excellent!
Tony: Actually we haven't restocked since Freddie Flintoff's last visit. There's whisky, but it's only half past ten.
Harry: That late! I'm gasping.
Tony pours a whisky and offers the glass to Harry. Harry takes the bottle.
Tony: There's bad news on Iraq, I'm afraid. We can't risk you on the front line. You're being assigned to a desk job in Basra.
Harry: No way! I'm going on patrol with my men.
Tony: Too dangerous.
Harry: Oh, great. Why the hell do you think I went to Sandhurst?
Tony: The subsidised bar?
Harry: To fight for my country.
Tony: And you will be fighting, Harry. But with paper clips instead of a tank.
Harry: Paper clips . . .
Tony: It's vital work. You'll be scheduling power cuts. Building new graveyards. Compensating Iraqis beaten up by rogue elements within the army . . .
Harry: Sod you, mate. I'm going to war.
Tony: Out of the question. The Iranians will be searching for you high and low. God knows what will happen if they pick you up.
Harry [swigging freely]: I'll escape. Just watch me.
Tony: Harry, you can barely get out of a nightclub in Soho, let alone a military prison in Iran. They could even hang you as a spy.
Harry: Come on. How could I be a spy? I'm world-famous.
Tony: Mmm, good point. And they'd have to prove you can see straight, which wouldn't be easy.
Harry: They wouldn't hang a member of the royal family. We'd flatten them with nukes.
Tony: Lovely thought, yes, but I'll let you in on a little secret. Our nukes don't work.
Harry: What?
Tony: At least we can't be sure. We've never used them. So if you're arrested out there, you're on your own.
Harry: I'll take the risk. What's the worst that can happen? Couple of weeks in jail and I'll be a hero. Soon as I'm out, I can hit Tehran, take in a few clubs. I've heard it's pretty cosmopolitan nowadays.
Tony: Yeah. Apart from the alcohol ban.
Harry: The what?
Tony: The whole country's dry.
Harry: Oh, there's always a little watering hole tucked away somewhere.
Tony: Not in Iran. You can't even get a shandy.
Beat.
Harry: About this desk job . . .
Scene 2: Gordon's office. An hour later. Full of whisky and Dutch courage, Harry has changed his mind about the desk job.
Harry: Hey, man! How's things?
Gordon: All right -
Harry: Can I just say. No need for all the "sir" crap, OK. Just call me Harry.
Gordon: I wasn't thinking of calling you anything else.
Harry: Great. Now I need you to help me. Blair says if I go on patrol in Iraq I may end up getting hanged by the Iranians.
Gordon: And the problem is?
Harry: Well, no one wants a member of the royal family hanged, obviously.
Gordon: What strange circles you move in. How do you want me to help?
Harry: Is there any chance you can overrule him?
Gordon: Who do you think's been running domestic policy for the last ten years? It's fine. You go ahead and join your men.
Harry: Really?
Gordon: Of course, heh heh. I'm delighted to see members of the royal family throwing themselves into the line of fine. It fills my heart with joy.
Harry: Thanks, man.
Gordon: And keep your helmet on. That hair'll be an easy target for snipers.
Harry: Sure thing. Hey. Can I get you something?
Gordon: What?
Harry: In return. Something from Grandma. Order of Merit? Companion of Honour? Knight of the Garter?
Gordon: Get out, you little prat.
Scene 3: Downing Street. Three hours later. Harry has been out celebrating. He comes swaying up to Tony, who stands at a podium addressing the world's press.
Tony: . . . and here he is. Britain's very own hero.
Harry [wobbling badly]: Hello. Hic!
Tony: Harry represents all that is best about our armed forces. Bravery, professionalism, dedication and er . . . Good, Harry, steady yourself against the podium. That's it. Earlier I tried to persuade Harry to accept a desk job but Gordon - I mean Harry wouldn't hear of it.
Journalist: Harry! How do you feel about going to Iraq?
Harry [recognising a paparazzo]: Eh? It's you, isn't it? With the camera!
Tony: Er, never mind, Harry. The important thing is that you're joining our armed forces as they continue . . .
Harry: Come here. I haven't finished with you, mate!
Harry launches at the cameraman. Fists fly. Other paparazzi join in. A huge ruck starts in front of Tony.
Tony: . . . as they spread peace and stability and try to end the tragic violence that has disrupted civilian life in . . . Right, that's it. Thank you, gentlemen.
He disappears into No 10 as the brawl rages out of control.
Post this article to
We want to encourage people to comment on our content and to exchange views with other readers and hope this will be done on a courteous basis. However, if you encounter posts which are offensive please let us know by emailing comments@newstatesman.co.uk and we will take swift action where necessary.
