Thursday 23rd April
Didn't you just ask me that?
6.00am
The alarm went off, and played “I
Got You Babe” by Sonny and Cher. It always played “I Got You Babe” by Sonny and
Cher.
Phil Robinson couldn’t quite
believe it. Another day? What number was this? Day 25? What sort of tireless
bore would cover this shit for 25 days? With 2 weeks more to go? Jesus! He felt
so tired.
But he got up and headed to the
office of his newspaper.
7.00am
Clocked in on time – through the
door at 7am, like every day. What’s on the table today?
A former PM has weighed in. Had
that before.
What will the big hitters be
talking about? The economy. Had that before.
“Long-term economic plan.” Had
that before.
“Cost of living crisis.” Had that
before.
“We will support hard-working
families.” Had that before. “What does that even mean?” thought Phil. Does
Osborne sit there going “Look at all those kids not putting in a shift. Only
the families with chimney-sweeping minors get my support.”
“If I hear that one more time,”
he muttered, “I’m going to take matters into my own hands.”
“Wait a minute,” he thought. “Didn’t
I think this exact same thing yesterday?”
9.30am
Time for Cameron’s morning
speech, like every fucking day. And guess what? It’s in front of that same
fucking blue background. He doesn’t go anywhere without it. Phil bet that
before he goes to take a piss, a team of handymen go in to set up a blue
backdrop with “Delivering for Britain” written on it.
Does he say anything new? Does he
fuck? He says the same tired catchphrases as previous days. “SNP”, “Labour Debt”
– all the old favourites, like some kind of Sinatra concert from purgatory.
Phil really was losing it this
morning. He’d definitely seen it all before.
10.30am
The (Independent) Institute for
Fiscal Studies is giving a report on all of the parties’ economic plans. And –
guess what? They’re all being vague and not telling the truth.
“Well, big woop,” thought Phil. “Even
the independent commentators are like stuck records now.”
The report has criticised Labour,
the Tories, the Lib Dems and the SNP for providing insufficient plans. This was
reported by The Daily Telegraph as “Only
a Conservative Government would Balance Books, says IFS”, whilst The Guardian went for “Tories have £30bn
black hole in spending plans, says IFS”.
“How stupid do they think we are?”
thought Phil. Still – it was the same as every day. EVERY DAY!
1.01pm
Phil was so depressed by
lunchtime that he ordered everything. Everything. Burgers, fries, milkshakes,
pancakes, eggs, a pot of coffee he drank straight from. He felt a
devil-may-care attitude burgeoning within him.
A woman came to him and said “Don’t
you worry about cholesterol?”
“I don’t worry about anything,”
said Phil.
3.15pm
No-one was doing anything. It was
like the parties had all decided not to campaign. Like they’d met in a room and
agreed a ceasefire, resulting in a Hung Parliament and everyone refighting it
in a few months’ time when the public might be more clear-minded, the indecisive
gits.
Then he heard the phrase “Hard-working
families” from one of the office TVs, and something clicked.
Phil just got up and walked out
of the office.
4.05pm
Phil had tracked down the Labour
Campaign Bus, and was just hanging around with his press pass on, biding his
time. As soon as the driver nipped out for a fag, Phil jumped in and hijacked
the bus and aimed for Dover.
5.01pm
“Don't drive angry. Don't drive
angry!” shouted Phil as he tore across the most southerly fields in Kent.
He was now pursued by police
cars, police helicopters, news-copters, a demented Norman Smith screaming into
his camera “FINALLY! SOMETHING’S HAPPENED!”, a furious Ed Miliband who was
shouting something about wanting his pimp wagon back, and a resurgent Jeremy
Clarkson sensing an opportunity for career-revival.
The police were trying to hail
him down, but Phil knew his escape was nigh. He could see the White Cliffs and
he said farewell to St George’s Day by toppling over them in a blaze of glory.
6.00am
The alarm went off, and played “I
Got You Babe” by Sonny and Cher. It always played “I Got You Babe” by Sonny and
Cher.
Events depicted may differ from actual events. In fact, this is a work of fiction, with some facts. But mostly, it's nonsense.
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