Where do you go to?

I have just returned from cycling in France with a few mates. As we strolled along the Promenade des Anglais in Nice we spontaneously burst into song, singing Peter Sarstedt's 'Where do you go to my Lovely'.
While we were away we received the great news that Theresa may had completely misread the electorate and had received her comeuppance for so cravenly calling an election.
 The ballad below, so shamelessly derived from Sarstedt's great song is to celebrate my 3 comrades a velo; Rosie Duffield's victory in Canterbury; the revival of Labour; the re-entry of Young People into politics; and the kicking administered to the Tories' solar plexus.

Where do you go to my Mayfly? (in the style of the song by Peter Sarstedt)

Where do you go to my Mayfly

When you're with Phil, home in bed?

Do thoughts of duplicity surround you?

I'd like to look inside your head.

Your  dad was a C of E vicar

Which gave you an ethical steer?

But your carefully confected,  faux-Christianity

Just serves as a smokescreen, I fear.

Yes it does, Ha! Ha! Ha!

You took yourself off to Oxford

You're remembered by all at St. Hugh's

Some talk of your burning ambition

But more of your leopard-skin shoes.

So where do you go to my lovely

When you're at home in your bed

Are you troubled by thoughts of Grenfell Tower

I'd like to look inside your head

Your friends call you 'boring but competent'

But you're much more dangerous, I think

You'd trash human rights tomorrow

You thought up The Snooper's Charter

without so much as a drink

You style yourself 'New Iron Lady'

yet you lack her hateful, steely charm

You've tried to do Ronnie and Maggie

With ridiculous Trump on your arm

So where do you go to my Mayfly?

When you hide under the bed

Does your staggering hypocrisy surround you

I'd like to look inside your head...

You're obsessed by immigration

Though you you could not keep numbers down

You've started Brexit negotiations

With people as bargaining chips

The JAMs you supposedly side with

are still squealing like so many squeezed  pips

Your loveliness goes on and on; yes it does...

No strategy is too mendacious

No trick is ever too mean

But it's not just yourself you abase

It's all of us that you demean.

Now you called a General Election

You called it just for fun

(for a laugh, ha! ha!ha!)

The greatest miscalculation you could have made

A game of very high stakes and

One you should never have played

So eat up your own Dog's Brexit

You see; they no longer want you

Or fall silently on your sword

Boris says it's the right thing to do

So, where do you go to my Mayfly

When you're alone in your bed

Do you dare to look in the mirror?

Do you see someone already dead?

(na  na-na-na  na  na-na-na  na-na   na na na na)

Bozos deceived!

3 Bozos in a Boat

Scene 9

Porcamis continues shadow fencing for a while. He slumps in the chair. He wanders over to the sideboard and pours himself a generous quantity of absinthe. He downs it at a gulp, smacking his lips.He moves to take a snort of the powder left for him. He scrutinises the 1000 rouble note .

P: (to himself) This is the only trough Porky wants to get his snout into – unlike the dour Foxos, I might add.

Porcamis glances over at Hammond who has recovered from his kicking and is now earnestly lapping at a bowl set down for him. It is marked  ' Pour un fils d' une chienne'. Hammond suddenly keels over and lies twitching on his side.

P: Cripes! Hammondo's  bowl must have been spiked. Porky's drink tasted a bit strange. Oh lorks, probably spiked too, lets hope it's not some dreadful truth-drug or Porcamis is in real trouble.

The door to the boudoir opens. Mr. Muscle (Vlad) saunters in with Maureen La Plume bobbing in his wake. La Plume is wearing combat trousers, which match Vlad's; she is sporting a tri-colour T shirt with a logo on the front, which reads 'National Front'  and a logo on the back , which reads ' National Back'

VP: I see you haffe made yourself at  home, Comrade. (Vlad taps his nose knowingly)

P: I am fine, Putrid, which is more than I can say for the dog (Gestures with distaste at Hammond)

VP: Do not worry about Mayfly's 'lap dog'; he will recover. We did not want him to interfere with our 'negotiations' or indeed reporting back to the 'Ironing Lady'

P: Wowzer! Negotiations; a spot of diplomacy, Porky is good at that!

VP:  I sink zatt we call it duplicity rather  zan diplomacy; We know de Piffle that you are, shall we say (he exchanges glances with La Plume) sans pareil at duplicity.

P: Steady on, your excellency. I would say (thinking of Gover) that Porcamis is more sinned against than sinning in that department.

MLP: Must nous put up with ce nonsense arrant?

Porcamis turns towards Mme La Plume

P: Madame La Plume je vous recognised immediatement – vous etes even more charmante than dans les images..Mille pictures ne peuvent pas convey adequatement votre beauty exceptionnelle!

(Porcamis winks winningly at MLP)

MLP: Bourgeois piffle, de Pfeffel, si Je might say so!

VP: (trying to ripple his muscles) I advise your Lordship to leave Mme La Plume to do the talking.

 (MLP blows a kiss to Vlad Putrid)

MLP: As you know, de Piffle, Vlad and I had an agreement with the perfidious Mayfly

Unnoticed Hammondo opens one eye on hearing his mistress’ name. He quickly closes it , pretending still to be knocked out.)

MLP: Together the ‘Triple Lock’ (as we were to be known) would destabilize Europe so that the EU would shatter into a thousand pieces. Good for La France, as i would enter the Elysees Palace like Jean d’Arc; Tres Bon for putrid, who would again have dominion over a fragmented Europe de L’Est and good for the Mayfly as she would spared an embarrassing rebuff of her negotiations pathetiques après Dog’s Brexit.

P: What a spiffing idea, si je might say so Maureen; but Porcamis knows rien of this – the Ironing Lady never keeps old Porky nor her gallant Brexiteers in the loop.

VP: It ees precisely because you know nothing that we have chosen you for our Novad Project. Now zat you are guaranteed to do everyzing we say, you are as Abramm would say ‘The Special One’

P: (offended at being seen as a pushover) Now Look here Porcamis may play the fool now and then – hanging on a high wire or creating Alcoholgate at a Sikh temple – that’s all knockabout to endear Porky to the ignorant plebs back home. (Porcamis puffs out his chest) Inside there is a man of steel. If you think Porcamis is just a gun for hire....(Porcamis tales off)

MLP: You pay trop d’attention to your gun, de Piffle. My advice is to let it spend more time in its holster. Vlad is just alluding to the fact that vous etes dans mon poche because we have an interesting little video of you sniffing talcum powder, taken just a few moments ago from behind our two way mirror. (MLP indicates the wall-to-wall mirror)

P: (shaking his head) That’s dirty under-hand stuff; not cricket, du tout.

MLP: Quite, so. But really de Piffle, you should know that any self-respecting Bordello will have une mirroir two way.  Do you not find it a trifle amusant that you were actually sniffing poudre de talc when you thought it was quelque chose plus fort! Of, course the Mayfly when she’s our petite video will not know the difference and you will be in the sack...oh, excuse my Anglais...you will be sacked.

P: (mutters to himself) Done up like a kipper

VP: Vee prefer the saying ‘You are in an Eton Mess! (Vlad chortles in a menacing way)

MLP: To continue our histoire malheureuse. Your Mayfly has let us all down. We have been informed by Monsieur Farrago that a ‘Grande Bete’ Europhile of the Partie des Tories - has been feeding information, with Mayfly’s consent, to the Scottish imposter, MacRon, which has helped him to enter my Elysees Palace (Maureen starting to lose control) and not me...not me....Jean D’Arc, Brigitte Bardot, Edith Piaf together as one woman in Maureen La Plume’s body...

(Vlad Putrid puts a comforting arm around Maureen’s shoulders )

P: So who is this Big Beast?

VP: This is no longer important; but let’s, for example, call him Hushpuppy-Jazz

P: Et Tu, Clarke! You canny old hound!

VP: Aided and abetted by zee Torree party’s ageing clitoris, Mike Brilliantine. But, as I say, theez is all irrelevant. Maureen and I are now playing thee Long Game. We are going to use; should I say, work with you and Flakey Farrago and put one of you in power following the election. We will let you and Fag-end Farrago work out between you, who will enter Numero Dix.

(Vlad blows another kiss to Maureen, who is cursing MacRon and Mayfly in a low vengeful voice)

MLP: We have code-named this petit plan Dumb & Dumber 2

P:  (gloomily) I see what you mean by Le Jeu Longue – The Ironing Lady will not call an election until 2020.

MLP: Pauvre Porcamis! We no longer live on the Playing Fields of Eton. Ici, c’est le Monde du Realpolitik! Why do you think you and Les Deux Autres Bozos have been sent on an undercover jaunt? To bring back information to strengthen Mayfly’s feeble negotiating hand? Don’t make me laugh, de Piffle. You, the hapless Davros and the Puffball Foxos have been sent to Brussels so that the Ironing Lady could call an election without you around! Antwerp to Brussels by boat; hahaha! No, you Porcine Pudding, you have been sold down a very different river from the Scheldt!

VP: Now you are up zee execrable creek without zee paddle!

P: gesturing at himself( Brutus in the wall to wall mirror,) aside  At a time like this one can only find solace in the Great Bard

walking theatrically towards his imagined audience

     Porcamis ,    

     Thou art the ruins of the noblest man

     That ever lived in the tide of times

     Woe to the hand that shed this blood

VP: So we can take it then, de Piffle, that you are on board with our new plan

P:  with his usual understated sense of self importance (he is now Russell Crowe)

My name is Borisimus-Johannes-Maximus-de-Piffle-Porcamis, father to a Bastard son, Husband to a Deceived Wife (or 2), Commander of the Forces of Little Britain, Tireless Servant to my own Vaunting Ambition and I will have my vengeance in this election or the next...

There will now be a short Intermission; please make sure you are back in your seats by JUNE 8th