Bozos continued

3 Bozos continued

 

Scene 8

Phil-at-home is sitting at a table in the Tea Garden in the grounds of St. Ascension-to-the-Premiership Church in Maidenhead. The table has a tea pot and cup along with an array of IT hardware – I-phone; I-pad; headset etc. Phil is punching numbers into a calculator, whilst talking through the headset. He looks up as Maytrix approaches. She is looking worried and harassed. 

P-a-H: (talking to his Phone) Weak and Wobbly’s just turned up... must go...my advice is buy, buy, buy; bye-bye! (he sits back with a look of satisfaction. Maytrix collapses onto a rather unstable garden chair)

P-a-H: Hello my Old Bunion. That was Hedge-fund Horace. You remember him. Humungus pad in the Dutch Antilles; fortune in the City....or maybe it was the other way round. Anyway, he was just about to place a bet - I mean invest some money- on how many percentage points the Tory lead will drop as a result of Porcamis’ Sikh Temple/Whiskygate ruse. I told Horrie, I would ask you and get back to him.

Maytrix:

Really, Phil; you are just too much sometimes. I have just had what Daddy used to call a ‘St. Catherine of a day’ – I was pinned mercilessly to the wheel by a succession of our ‘media friends’, who seem to be turning against me. The whole thing is being orchestrated by that awful Jock–Andy Neil.

That new Spindogger of ours, James (Nutty) Slack, is proving to be worse even than Katie ‘don’t-blame me’ Perrier. You know how I hate being interviewed by ‘Randy Andy’ so I tell Nutty to give me a script that is watertight, and, if you pardon the expression, ordure proof. So Slacky says in his disgusting over-familiar way ‘no problem Terry! You just need to repeat these 2 phrases – ‘Horse and Stable’ and ‘Do you want Jezza-bin-Corbyn entering number 10 through the back door? ‘.

Everything is going swingingly, apart from having to cope with Jock Neil’s dreadful body odour when he leans towards me; then all of a sudden he starts to smirk and asks me to tell him more about selling off old people’s houses to pay for their care and stopping their greedy children getting their hands on the equity. Of course, I have no idea what he is on about so I come back with ‘It’s a straight choice between ME and Asama-bin-Corbyn at number 10’.  Jock is not impressed and returns with ‘So, you don’t care, if ordinary people can no longer help to make their children’s future secure?’ I reply ‘I think you’ll find, Dandy Andy, that what the Great Unwashed want is Horse and Stable government!

At this Gnasher Neal’s smirk turns into a broad grin and says triumphantly ‘Well, Prime Mediocrity! I think you will find that the horse has already bolted on this one’. As you can imagine, Phil, I am seething at this. Nevertheless, I manage to perform what the Rugger Buggers at St. Hugh’s used to call a ‘scrambled defence’.

On the whole, all things considered, I feel like I come out of Jock’s mauling pretty well; but when I get back to Spin HQ, Nutty Slack is in high dudgeon. ‘What did you think you’re doing, you’ve stirred up a Silver Tsunami’ he says, ‘You’ve already upset the JAMs’ , he says.

(aside to Phil) Remind me, who are the JAMs, Phil?

P-a-H: (sympathetically) The ‘Just About Mad (enough to vote Tory)’

M: I just don’t understand these spin-doggers, exactly what do they want?

P-a-H: (sniggering) Oh, spin-doggers; nothing they like more than to see you screwed in public! (chortles at his own joke)

M: (not understanding) Maybe Phil, I have not understood the brilliance of your care scheme; or perhaps I didn’t put it across well. Explain to me again how does your selling old people’s homes idea work?

P-a-H: (Phil raises his eyes to heaven; It is the fifth time he has had to explain) Well, darling, it’s a simple but beautiful idea. It’s just an equity release scam; I mean, plan. We get our hands on the equity locked up in old people’s property; my company makes a handsome profit; The Greys and their kids lose a bit of scratch (which they didn’t deserve anyway); I slip you a few thousand for your favourite C of E charity – Bish, Bash, Bosh, tons of Dosh – problem solved.

M: Phil, you are so clever... Now I don’t want you to be jealous but I wish I had Spreadsheet Phil by my side at this time. He is so good at being dull. He would just have woofed a few numbers at Nasty neal until the Jabber Jock just gave up; and everyone would say ‘Hammondo is right1’ ‘We can trust Hammond-the-dog.

P: Much better, my little Mayflower, that he takes care of the Bozos...With the Bozos away, the Maytrix makes hay!

M: (looking lovingly into  Phil’s spectacles) Did I mention, Phil poppet, that when I was in the US of A, Dementia Donny said that we are a marriage made in heaven...you know I think he’s right!