Well, I think he does. and I'll tell you how I know. I can't get any time with either of them to pitch my new idea for a sell-off. I want to get them to agree that I sell-off the Privy Council. I bet there are many countries in the world who would love a Privy Council. All that tradition and stuff is just what newly formed nations want. I bet they'd pay a ton for it and I'd get a nice little bonus. The problem is that whenever I ask to see Dave - or even George - I get the brush off. I asked why. "'They're locked in with their spin team and Lynton," I was told by the ravishing Peaches McClean, who's temping at Number Ten. (Peaches is my new confidante.)
I figure that they're worried about Corbyn's unusual approach to PMQs. So they've got their heads down trying to come up with a hundred more briefs to the blue-banner press to rubbish the poor guy. As if that hadn't been done enough already. They're also scared that the public will finally realise that everything they say - Dave and George that is - is very dodgy. All of which means that I can't get on with my job - selling off Britain. So I'm gonna update my c.v. and see if there are any interesting assignments around for a man of my calibre and accomplishments. I can't sit about waiting for Dave and his little pal much longer. (I'm told Dave calls George, 'Tonto' when he's not around!)