A Tale Of Number Ten – London 2012 Special

David Cameron took a sip of tea from his cup and then glanced casually at his watch. His eyes gazed across the room. With him was his Deputy Prime Minister and leader of the Liberal Democrats, Nick Clegg, and his Chancellor, George Osborne. The last few weeks had not gone well for the Prime Minister and his ruling administration. He had seen his coalition stumble from one disaster to another, questions were being asked about whether the coalition would even last the full term. He was determined to prove them wrong, after all, this was his destiny to be a great leader, to do great things. He knew these were hard times, he had inherited an economy in a mess. He knew this because he had repeated this mantra often enough so it had to be true. Today, however, was a day to forget all about his problems. Today they were meeting the British Olympic Beach Volleyball Team. “Cheap political point scoring is the best kind of point scoring”, his Chancellor would remind him.

There was a knock at the door and the Prime Minister’s butler entered the room. “Sirs, the British Ladies Beach Volleyball Team.”. Behind him walked in six ladies, all in the peak of physical fitness, clad in the blue official British track suit of the Games.

David Cameron and his two colleagues walked towards the ladies. Cameron broke the ice. “Ladies, it is a pleasure to have you all here in Number Ten.”

Nick Clegg coughed nervously. George Osborne glanced at the Deputy Prime Minister who was starting to sweat noticeably. “Thank-you,” replied one of the ladies, “it is a pleasure to be here.”

“Well, I am just happy you found time to be here. I have no doubt you are extremely busy at the moment.”

“Oh no. We can squeeze you in at anytime” Nick Clegg coughed again.

George Osborne put in. “So, tell me you ladies must need to be very fit to compete in your sport.”

“Oh yes,” replied one of the team, “we have a very strict training regime. Some of our workouts are so intense we just cannot wait for a shower and rubdown at the end.”

“I-I-I must go, I have work to do,” said Nick Clegg suddenly.

“What?” said Osborne, “that is rather rude. These ladies have interrupted their special Olympics training to be here and you want to do some work?”

Nick Clegg looked at the ladies sheepishly. “I’m sorry, do forgive me.”

David Cameron looked at the Beach Volleyball Team and said “So, I take it you ladies don’t compete in those cumbersome looking track suits, do you?”

“Oh no,” they all replied, “this is what we wear.” Then, as if rehearsed, all six took off their track suits to reveal skimpy blue bikinis, barely leaving anything to the imagination.

“Now, I really must go!” Nick Clegg stormed out of the room, pushing the ladies out of the way in doing so.

When he left the room, David Cameron looked at his Chancellor and the pair of them burst into fits of laughter. “That will teach him for pushing Lords reform.” they guffawed. For the first time in months Cameron felt at one with his Chancellor.

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Vincent Shaw
About Vincent Shaw 48 Articles
Satirist for Dailly Waffle and general pain in the backside. Office chap by day, Dad who is far too soft with his daughter by night. When not thinking about stuff to write I am thinking about what I should have to eat next. Heavily influenced by Peter Cook, Bill Hicks and Eddie Izzard.