Even Mr. Moan thinks the Jubilee marmalade sandwiches skit was a masterstroke……..
“Mr Moan, please, stop blubbering.”
But Mr Moan, the founder of the British United National Kingdom Party (BUNK) continued to whimper as he sat curled up on the Darwin sofa (supplied by Darlings of Chelsea and paid for by a Russian Oligarch) in the lounge of their Mayfair Suite. Eva Brick, the former Russian Olympic shot put champion, was becoming concerned that the Dobok was not having the desired effect on her partner. She was delighted with the recently imported Korean Taekwondo uniform and she had worked hard to merit the seventh Cho Dan Bo belt she was wearing.
The Balcony Scene
“I wanted to go on the balcony,” Mr Moan cried out. Eva held him gently in her arms.
“Mr Moanie,” she whispered, “we spent much of the night discussing this. The Buckingham Palace appearance is for Her Majesty the Queen and members of the Royal Family.” Mr Moan stood up and began to stalk around the room.
It was time for Eva to restore the status quo as she applied a Koma Nage. The spinning top throw deposited the future Prime Minister on to the carpet.
“But I am royalty,” yelled Mr Moan. “My lineage traces back to Michael 1 King of Romania.”
“He was overthrown in 1948, Mr Moanie,” said Eva, “when the republic was declared and, anyway, your relative died of syphilis.”
Mr Moan leaped up. “No, it was a medical misdiagnosis. He had psoriasis.” He paused. “Now her Majesty has had tea with Paddington, a stuffed bear! Why was I not invited?” Eva hesitated briefly before trying to lift her partner’s spirits.
Paddington’s Marmalade Sandwiches
“Her Majesty has shown great wisdom and bravery during the Platinum Jubilee celebrations and Paddington Bear’s marmalade sandwiches was a masterstroke. It is very healthy because the preserve contains pectin which is an antidote to high cholesterol.” Eva paused. “Mr Moan, why all this concern about Her Majesty. The Bunk draft election manifesto says we are going to abolish the Monarchy?”
“And the House of Lords,” he enthused. “850 elites wasting huge amounts of tax payers’ money achieving very little.” Mr Moan sat down so that he could begin eating his vegan breakfast comprising banana, blueberry and maple syrup pancakes. He paused and stared at Eva who had now changed into her running shorts.
St Paul’s Cathedral
“Eva,” he sighed, “did you see the congregation in the St Paul’s Cathedral service?
Rows of naval officers showing off their medals and awaiting the call for more honours. Their chauffeur driven cars will have taken them back to their palatial homes.” He banged the table with his fist. “They don’t even have enough ships to play war games. And the ones they do have are under-staffed and under-maintained. The only person I would send to Rwanda, by the way, is Miss Rust who still thinks she can win the Ukrainian war.” He laughed. “Even our human rights judges would agree to that!”
BUNK Election Victory May 2024
Eva was preparing for her ten mile run around Hyde Park. She realised that Mr Moan had something else to say. So she paused.
“Eva, when the revolution comes with a BUNK election victory in May 2024, and we consign Horace to history, I shall implement our manifesto commitments and return this country to the people.” He paused and hugged his partner. “But I do have one thought to share with you. No 10 Downing Street looks a little dingy to me. How would you feel about living in Windsor Castle?”
“But Mr Moan, I’m allergic to Corgis!”