"If you like Political Satire, and crooked politicans getting caught in the rain
If you're not into 'fake news', if you have half a brain
If you like tweeting at midnight, and posting comments on the netscape
I'm the satirist that...
"trouble": In 500 plus words, tell what happens when there is trouble
STATESMANSHIP
One week ago - Buckingham Palace.
'And this is Mr B'stard, Mr President.'
'Ah, good to meet you Mr Bastard. I've heard good things. Good things. Bannon said ...'
Alan quickly took the President's hand. 'No need to mention him, here, Mr Prez. Donald ... I may call you Donald, mayn't I? I almost feel I know you. Read every tweet. Big fan. Oh and this must be your lovely wife, Melanie!'
The First Lady looked the upstart politician over, as her husband was rendered speechless for once. 'Melania. But I think perhaps you know this, Mr Bastard.'
Alan took the First Lady's hand. 'Call me Alan.' He licked his lips lasciviously.
'Alan ... you are member of parliament, yes?'
'The biggest member in the house, Melanie.'
'This means?'
Alan glanced down the hall. 'I have the largest majority ... Oh look, your husband's wondered off with her maj and the rest of the party. Have you seen this room?'
'No. Is significant? Historical?'
B'Stard propelled the First Lady into the room. 'Not particularly, but its as good a place as any to explain my large majority!' He entered in behind her. 'Oh, and do let me know if your hubby has any well paid international advisory roles opening up!'
Exactly 3.7 minutes later, the MP for Haltemprice, exited and zipped up his flies. 'Don't forget to remember me to Donny!' he called back into the room.
Now - June 2019, Commons Bar, Houses of Parliament, Westminster.
'Sit down B'stard. No doubt you'll be wondering why you've been called before the 1722 committee.'
Alan took a leather chair. 'Mind if I sit here? After all, old Totty won't be needing it, and can you call yourself a committee when there's just three of you now?'
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Commodore Aethelstan Thrashley-Boater, MP glared at the younger man. 'You'll show respect, young Bastard. Totterley Bingham Smythe was a fifty year man. Great Conservative. Great leader. Almost led us into a new age, but that damn Chamberlain got the leadership.
Alan nodded and took the old man's brandy glass from his hand. 'Well yes, but the way I heard it was that if Totty had got the nod, we'd all be sprechen sie the deutsch now. CIGAR!'
A passing waiter instantly placed a large havana in Alan's hand, as the ancient Thrashley-Boater spluttered with indignation.
