The PM eagerly awaits the City's response to his optimism |
“Begging your pardon, milords, ladies and gentlemen,” starts his keynote speech, set to begin as he humbly ushers the waddling fat cats to their reinforced seats, “But perhaps I might venture to suggest that, despite a slight loss of respect in the financial sphere…”
He will then be ceremonially damned for his impudence by the incoming mayor and urged to hurry up with the wine list.
As the bloated guests pile enthusiastically into their entrées of langoustines addressed in five ways, Cameron will make a further attempt to rise above the gaseous eruptions of guzzling bankers, ineffectually clearing his throat several times before remarking that in spite of unprecedented levels of debt, poverty and job insecurity, Britain still wastes more of its dwindling finances on its military than Russia. He will then receive the traditional cuff to the back of the head from the nearest diner, who will urge him to cut the chitter-chatter, get his bastard arse into gear and wheel in the main course.
As he carves generous portions of Waygu beef rib for each slobbering guest, Cameron will murmur that “many other countries would envy the cards we hold,” and will in turn receive a painful clip round the ear from each of them for his troubles.
Finally, during the devouring of dessert, Cameron will duck the flying gobbets of white truffle to meekly assert that he would be “defending Britain’s moral authority even in the most difficult of circumstances” - upon which the Lord Mayor will insert the customary flea in the servant’s ear and, to rousing cheers from the sated gourmands, send the upstart waiter back to his rightful place below stairs with a firmly-planted boot to the backside.
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