Wednesday, 27 October 2010
"Nasty" Nick Paget-Brown has jumped to the command of La Baronessa and booked several suites at a prestigious country house hotel not far from Godalming. He and the Cabinet have had a quick run down from town with Spalding carefully avoiding speed traps.
The gleaming new supercharged Bentley limousine with its massive V20 engine pulled silently to a halt and nosed to it's place amongst the gleaming array of Bentleys, Rollers, Astons and Porsches. With their personalised number plates such as LUV1E, FOOTIE and RITC1E. RBKC 1 stood out for it's mayoral dignity. But where was the Mayor of the Royal Borough of Kensington and Chelsea whose motor it was ?
With a click of his booted heels Spalding leapt to the crested door opening it with a flourish to decant the Dear Leader followed closely by the power elite of the Borough. He lived in hope that Dear Leader would soon get him on the Council. With a practised hand Spalding reached in to push shut the discreetly lacquered cocktail cabinet and pick up the detritus now nestling in the depths of the fine grey Wilton carpet.
Sighing he thought of how he missed the 'gentry' he once so happily served. His reverie was rudely broken by the vulgar roar of RBKC 2. Slamming on the brakes the driver leapt from the Deputy Mayor's Jaguar and with a casual nod in the direction of Spalding threw him the keys. It was none other than Councillor 'Buffy' Buckmaster and his friend Cllr “Boyo” Moylan aka The Great Architect
What fun the friends had had on the journey down as they regaled each other with stories of their African adventures and their devoted employees who looked after them so well. You don't get chaps like that any more he mused. It was a pity the Mayor had emptied the cocktail cabinet before their journey; as he rather hankered after a stiff pink gin.
'Buffy' was dressed flamboyantly. His tightly waisted hounds tooth suit was set off by a well buffed pair of brogues, which like his shirt was hand made by Jermyn Street's finest. Wafting a cloud of cologne from Penhaligon he marched to the vast Gothic door of the exclusive Surrey Hills Country Club Hotel. Entering the high vaulted reception 'lounge' Buffy moved towards the gaggle of his fellow councillors waiting expectantly for the arrival of La Baronessa. They had not long to wait.
A clatter of a Sikorsky helicopter landing on the helipad heralded the arrival of La Baronessa.
But who was that with her ? With a scream 'Boy' Marshall dropped his XBox and yelled, “it's her...it's her”. For in truth it was...La Baronessa had delivered... there stood the immaculate apparition of Madonna. Our councillors stood gazing spellbound. Could Madonna really 'save their bacon'?
The Dear Leader momentarily lost for words regained his composure and with a deep bow practically genuflected in front of this icon of our times. Just in time he was able to deliver a smack to “Boy” Marshall who was pushing past him autograph book in hand.
Excitedly, these most powerful of men were reduced to incoherency. Fame had at last touched them. Would they now be able to move on and regain the patronage of Dave and Mr Pickles.
Suddenly, all their dreams appeared about to be shattered. From "The Squires Bar" they heard a booming voice addressing a group of Pringle sweatered golfers. It was none other that Ex-Councillor and former Royal Borough Mayor Mr Phelps holding a large goblet of Chateau Palmer.
"Hello Cockle”, he roared. Angrily The Dear Leader corrected him, " its Coc -kell, if you don't mind. "
“ I certainly do not”, he guffawed and pushed past the new Knight.
Just at that moment the terrible thing happened Madonna seeing the disturbance looked around the corner into Squires. With a cry she embraced the Bearded Barry. “Barry, how wonderful to see you”.
"My Dear Girl,the last time we met was at Arnie's Celebrity Reception in Santa Monica. What are you doing with this band of reprobates"?
With sinking hearts the Dear Leader's inner circle realised that all was lost. Cllr “Buffy” Buckmaster attempted to distract the famous singer with a rather good impression of George Formby but by now she was utterly in the thrall of the disgraced councillor.
Next time...will the gang manage to get rid of Bearded Barry and how much will it cost