Whenever I get gloomy with the state of the world, I think about the arrivals gate at Heathrow Airport. General opinion’s starting to make out that we live in a world of hatred and greed, but I don’t see that. It seems to me that love is everywhere. Often, it’s not particularly dignified or newsworthy, but it’s always there – fathers and sons, mothers and daughters, husbands and wives, boyfriends, girlfriends, old friends. When the planes hit the Twin Towers, as far as I know, none of the phone calls from the people on board were messages of hate or revenge – they were all messages of love. If you look for it, I’ve got a sneaky feeling you’ll find that love actually is all around.
Ah! You know, um, being Prime Minister, I could just have him murdered.
Do. The SAS are absolutely charming. Ruthless trained killers are just a phone call away.
I love that word “relationship.” Covers all manner of sins, doesn’t it? I fear that this has become a bad relationship; a relationship based on the President taking exactly what he wants and casually ignoring all those things that really matter to, erm… Britain. We may be a small country, but we’re a great one, too. The country of Shakespeare, Churchill, the Beatles, Sean Connery, Harry Potter. David Beckham’s right foot. David Beckham’s left foot, come to that. And a friend who bullies us is no longer a friend. And since bullies only respond to strength, from now onward I will be prepared to be much stronger. And the President should be prepared for that.
Yes, in fact, I am. Merry Christmas.
Part of the service, now. Trying to get round to everyone by New Year’s Eve.
It’s fine, it’s fine. You could’ve said “fuck,” and then we’d have been in real trouble.
Yes, I’m afraid I am. And I’m sorry for all the cock-ups, my cabinet are absolute crap. We’ll have to do better next year.
*You* have this kind of problem? Yeah… of course you did, you saucy minx!
I’m very busy and important. How can I help you?
Good King Wenceslas looked out, on the Feast of Stephen
When the snow lay round about, deep and crisp and even / Brightly shone the moon that night…
Who do you have to screw around here to get a cup of tea and a chocolate biscuit?
Yes, I would like that very much, indeed. Anything to put off actually running the country.
I’m not sure that politics and dating really go together.
Yeah, well, the difference is you’re still sickeningly handsome, whereas I look increasingly like my Aunt Mildred.
I had an uncle called Terence once. Hated him. I think he was a pervert. But I very much like the look of you.
