Written by Jamila Maxwell

 

Last night I had a dream.  It was Christmas morning, 20XX, and I unwrapped the present I had requested: ‘Secret Agent’ by Dominic Cummings.  I turned to the chapter on Brexit.

The Tory Grandees, when they decided something must be done about that ghastly man, Farage, selected three men they could trust with their lives because they were Etonians: David, Alexander (they simply couldn’t bear to call him Boris, an awfully yobbish name, used only to appeal to the plebs) and Jacob.

David, the one with the broadest appeal among voters was given the easy task: to promote Remain.  Alexander was given a harder task: to say that a clever man could see equal value in remaining and leaving (simply nonsense of course, but he only had to convince voters).  Giving that task to Alexander was a tad risky.  He was undoubtedly popular, particularly among women, but the Grandees all knew that eventually one’s sex life catches up with one.  (‘Me too’ they hear cried out in shrill voices in their nightmares.)

And then there are one’s offspring.  They grow up and unless paid off they can embarrass one quite dreadfully.  Jacob was told to play the eccentric Leaver.  He had to play the eccentric as they didn’t want people to think that a modern Conservative would want to Leave.  He relished the task and they thought he did frightfully well.  He made sure he looked the part, modelling himself on the star of that film for children about magic.  They always chortled when they saw him perform.  He delighted in being thought of as the MP from the 18th century.  Well done Jacob, full marks for panache!

The three chums hired Dominic and told him to run the Leave campaign well enough to make it convincing, so the turnout would be respectable, but to make damn sure that Remain won.  When he delivered a high turnout they were secretly pleased with themselves.  It showed the Grandees how clever they were to select such a smart chap to run the campaign.  You can always trust a Northern Chemist (that’s what people like Dominic are called at Oxford) to understand the voters.

However the Grandees were NOT impressed with his failure to get the result they wanted and banished all three to put that drudge, Theresa, in charge of boring the voters into submission year after year after year.  It was quite painful for everyone but it was borne with stoicism.  When everyone had endured enough, Alexander was put in charge.  He was told (by this time the Grandees were enjoying using the vernacular) to put lipstick on the pig, make sure he used a rather fetching shade of pink, AND to find a matching nail varnish.  Alexander, who knew he wouldn’t be able to run a tombola stall at a village fete, brought Dominic back in.  And Dominic made the pig in lipstick and nail varnish looks quite hideous.  But as long as all the Tories admired it, some with faux reluctance, the Grandees thought it would enable them to secure a victory at the 2019 election after which Alexander would follow Theresa’s lead: bore for Britain and keep the country in the EU while the voters lost interest in politics and got back to watching the telly.

As Dominic revealed in his book, he was a secret agent.  Whether or not he ever met or communicated with Nigel is still a mystery.  But they were always of the same mind.  Both are Eurosceptics.  Both despise pompous idiots who get into Parliament by being born in the right family, going to the right school and university and joining one of the two tribes that control the country.  By getting every Tory MP to praise the tarted up pig and by getting the election called, Dominic was really doing everything he could to maximise Nigel’s chances of victory.

Then the alarm bell rang …

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