Whitehall officials take notes of all the Prime Minister’s work meetings, says Fleet Street Fox. For some reason, they haven’t published these ones
“All right, now, order, order! Let’s order, please, because Bozza’s half a bottle of wine down and in medical need of a thick crust pizza! Goose liver pate on mine, please.
“As Prime Minister I will lead this meeting, and the Cabinet Secretary, Simon Case, will take the minutes so that we can later shred them and claim there was no meeting.
“First item of business, is everyone wearing a suit? No? Just me then. Well, I say ‘wearing’, but it’s more a case of gently falling out of my suit, but there we are, wine and cheese will do that to a chap. Still, a suit means this is a bona fide work meeting, allowed under the rules, when strictly necessary, with social distancing observed, even though I also wear my suit under football shirts.
“Crikey, this all feels jolly gruelling. Let’s have a drink, shall we?
Surrey Advertiser – Grahame Larter)
“Second item, then, apologies for absence. Matt Handsfacespace has left early, because he’s just done a televised press conference telling people not to socialise or visit each other’s gardens, and needs to make sure his wife doesn’t find out. Rishi Sunak is in his counting house, and the Raabster is still trying to get in the sea, as the Right Abominable Mr Cummings suggested. Well done Dom, good effort. Everyone raise your glass to the japester!
“Next up, any disclosures? Lobbying contacts, oligarchs, friends, cronies, donors, looking to get rich by WhatsApping their bank details with a prayer emoji? No? Well go and find some then, we’ll never retire into unimaginable wealth and directorships otherwise. Gird your loins with a quick libation, why don’t you.
“Now, right, where are we? Oh, that’s right, work. Yes. Who do I work for? Ah, the public. Yes well that’s why this meeting will be held as they say in Latin IN CAMERA, so that none of the hoi polloi ever get to know about the vee vee hard work their Bozza is doing to keep them all safely ignorant.
“Got that, Mr Briefcase? Camera. S’right. Write it down. I need a drink while I distract my thoughts.
Martyn Wheatley / i-Images)
“So, then, ok, right, ok, pipe down over there on the lawn, can’t think with you clinking that drinks trolley. Has everyone read the minutes of the previous meetings? Yes, Dom, I know they were written on beer mats, not the POINT, mate. All in favour? OK, resolved to place the minutes of all previous meetings in the bin. Chuck that bottle in there with it, open a fresh one.
“OK, so, announcements. There were 3,562 new cases of coronavirus reported today, May 17, 2020, thanks to the fact we’re testing hardly anyone. Another 10,199 people were in hospital with coronavirus, while we’re here with a fine cheese. Just under 1,200 of them are being mechanically ventilated, while just under 20 of us are getting cheerfully pickled. And very sadly, 267 voters have died today. So let’s raise a glass in their memory, and chug it in one.
“Now, we have a report from Mr Cummings And Goings, who has good news about a new symptom of coronavirus.”
CUMMINGS: “Thank you, you despicable prat. It seems that despite our early fears, real-world data shows eyesight is not affected by Covid-19, although foresight and hindsight do severely malfunction. We’re still seeking evidence about how quickly the sense of taste returns, so don’t hog the Malbec, fat lad, and pass the nuts.”
PM: “Thanks Mr C. C’s are good, C’s are good, Mr C’s are good! Now, a report from the very fragrant Mrs Next Johnson.”
CUMMINGS: “Objection! Princess Nut-Nuts doesn’t work here, and this is a work meeting!”
PM: “Now, Dom, no need for that, not worth it, mate, calm down! We’re all trying to have a relaxing, after-work, working drink while having a series of meetings, right? And she is sort of my interior design consultant, after all.”
PNN: “Thank you, Bozzie bear, and I can report that I’ve found some bargain gold wallpaper deals at only £840 a roll, a very reasonably-priced sofa, and some super-tasteful pink and green striped silk that John Lewis shoppers would consider vulgar in the extreme. We can get it all for under £120,000, and may need to set up an entirely illegal charity front to pay for it, but there won’t be any problem with that. And I’m watching you, Cummings.”
PM: “Huzzah! Good for soon-to-be Mrs Bozza! Drink!”
The FA via Getty Images)
“Necks, I means next, stop it Dom, your giggling’s not helping, I keep spillin’ m’wine on th’agenda. Right, right then, ok, so, now to a report of the licensing committee!
“Eh? Oh, sorry, not licensing. We don’t have a drinks license, just a licence to drink, ha ha! No, if we had a license there’d be other people in here and that would never do. No, soz, read it wrong, it’s the LIE-SENSING committee! No, no, lie-sending! SENDING! Oh gawd.”
CUMMINGS: “So we’re looking at recruiting a national journalist of unimpeachable integrity to front daily press conferences for the government, because you tossers couldn’t lie straight in bed. We need to improve government messaging about following the rules, and literally none of us understand what a rule is or what you’re supposed to do with it if you find one. We’re not sure who it will be yet, but it’ll be someone guaranteed to not burst into tears when caught out. We’ll hold mock press conferences answering fake questions about stuff we’ve actually done, and we’ll record it for training purposes.”
PM: “What could POSHIBLY go wrong?! Bozza loves it! Bozza loves you all! You’re my best friend, you are, Dom, I bloody love you mate. Lemmee find a donor to buy you a drink, no, really, I wanna.”
“Now, says here, right, says here, report of the Cobra committee. Does anyone know what the Cobra committee is? I’ve never been to one. No, hang on, I think I went once, but the only snake was Michael Gove. Isn’t there a beer called Cobra? Not a fan. Makes me burpy. Y’know. Barolo, mate, BAROLO.
“Anyway right, yes dear, I know, nappy, any day now I promise, so to sum up then we need to agree new guidance. And that is, right, for a work meeting, you need wine, cheese, pizza, your BEST, BEST mate, fiancee, baby, garden, and someone prepared to lie their face off for you.
“And that means a 15-hour ICU shift in PPE you had to buy yourself, or 12 hours on minimum wage as a carer unable to see your own families, or not attending your grandmother’s funeral because social distancing means the chapel won’t let you in, all qualifies as unnecessary socialising. But because we’re not animals, we won’t make it illegal, and leave that as a matter for their consciousnessenses.
“Frankly people should be clappin’ US, we’re the ones working hard. There’s still so many bottles. Shall we open another? All in favour? RESOLVED, vote carried unanimously!
“I jusht hope someone remembersh thish is all on camera. Teeheehee.”
George Holan is chief editor at Plainsmen Post and has articles published in many notable publications in the last decade.