Thread by @mrhenrymorris

Goveller’s Travels

Tuesday 22nd September

It came to pass that the Tory colossi had gathered in Matt Hancock’s bedsit for a tender reveal party, a fad in this land of Brobdingnag whereby the recipients of vast sums of PPE gold – strictly limited to friends of the government –

were announced with the destruction of a pinata shaped like Edmund Burke’s head. But I was all the while preoccupied with the presence of Larry the Downing Street cat, stalking among the crusty tissues and discarded y-fronts on Hancock’s kitchen floor. A noise like

that of a dozen rasping George Galloways proceeded from the purring of that animal, who I computed to be three times larger than an ox, the fierceness of it’s countenance altogether unsettling, like the look Sarah gives me when I start talking Star Trek continuity issues

at dinner parties; so I jogged fifty feet to the farther end of the table, next to where they were keeping Chris Whitty and Patrick Vallance on a hamster wheel that powered Grant Shapps’s six-pack ab toning belt; The cat did approach, but as I have been told that discovering

fear before a fierce animal is a certain way to make it attack you, I resolved instead to remove my clothes, daub myself in Marmite, and like the great Mel Gibson in Marlowe’s Braveheart, charge it while shouting “Freeeeeedom”, which discomposed the creature somewhat. At this

juncture we heard a Lambretta pull up outside and the door flung open to reveal Boris shouting “Itsa mee, Mario” with special branch behind, carrying several boxes of Italian pizza. A nanny came in to greet him, with one of his children in her arms which spied me and began

a squall you might have heard from London to Perugia, after the usual oratory of infants to get me for a plaything. Boris put me towards the child, who seized me by the middle, and got my head into his mouth, where I roared so loud that the urchin was frighted and let me drop,

and I should infallibly have broke my neck, if Kay Burley had not launched her giant hand through the window and caught me, saying “Michael it’s time for your interview”.