Every spring chicken has his day and mine was today. It's time I took the power back, just like rage against the machine.
Me chilling in the tub...
But how could I gain all these lustful desires? I'm just a lowly author with a part time job and a lack of patience. I know! I'll take over England! The Government are rubbish anyway. They call to cope with our collective needs, making us suffer with bedroom tax and their spineless attempts at punishment.
Nights and days went by as I constructed my master plan. I would infiltrate the powers that be, befriend them and take over this once great nation.
I started attending fancy parties, sipped wine like a pro and ate cucumber sandwiches. They were friendly and never suspected anything. I'm a devious bastard.
Until of course, it was too late and their end soon came quick enough. On a private jet to Alaska (they were taking me for my birthday), I chucked them out of the plane one at a time. They screamed like babies.
Me, Nick Clegg and David Cameron, before the dark times...
I mourned their loss at first, after all becoming friends and then betraying them is messy business. I enjoyed my holiday watching polar bears but soon found I missed the crap weather of home. So I jumped back on the plane and returned home.
I informed the queen about the demise of our 'leaders', she was hardly saddened. Instead she awarded me the title of Prime minister, I told the woman, she can move out and let me crash at her place. Reluctantly she agreed. So for now, I spend my days strutting around Buckingham palace waiting to bring back capital punishment and playing cards with Jeremy Clarkson.
A picture of me relaxing before a cabinet meeting, I think it's oak or pine today...
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