THAT WAS THE WEEK THAT WAS

AN ALTERNATIVE TAKE ON THE WEEKS NEWS

A WEEKLY LETTER FROM GORDON BROWNS CLEANER ETHEL, TO HER COUSIN EDITH

Dear Ethel

Mrs B rang last night and asked if I could do a little bit of spring cleaning on top of what I normally do as Mr B is going to pick his cabinet today (he must have some Ikea vouchers) which means more furniture for me to clean. She says he’s going have one hell of a clear out and get rid of the rubbish the other fella had. I hope he puts it all in the right bins. But never mind, I only hope the extra wages don’t muck up the family tax credit. Billy says ask her for cash on the nod, but she didn’t seem to keen, something about “the black economy ruining Britain”. Bloody racist!

Despite already getting the job, I had to have an interview with some one from MI6, some rubbish about “getting clearance”. What I waste of time. Was I a Muslim, could I speak English, did I go abroad much and what did I think of Hamas? Well, I said Billy once had it in when we were in Greece, but I didn’t go much for veggie food! Anyway, I must have passed because I got a special new national ID card with my photo on, plus 10% off at B and Q on Tuesdays.

What a day, people in and out all the time. This little girl came in, Hazel something or other. Blears, thats it. I said does your mam know you’re not at school? What a look of death I got. Kids these days eh! Then this lovely silver haired Scotsman came in, oh the double of Sean Connery, but younger. I could fancy him! Mind you, so does Mr B, he kept referring to him as Alistair, Darling. I think they must be old cricketing friends, because when I mentioned this to the policeman on the door he said perhaps Mr B bats for both sides!

Mind you, I was cleaning the “bathroom” when Mr B came in and started talking on his mobile. He must have just topped it up because he was on for ages. But I overheard some of the conversation and you know what, there going to have one of those “kinky” parties because one of his mates is a chief whip, and he wants him to make sure somebody called Cameron gets a good thrashing at some club called the Commons. It must be his birthday or something and Mr B’s ordered him one of those thrasha grams. He also mentioned something about two brothers as well, Miliband or something, and how “he needs them close to stop them causing bother”. They must be just like Phil and Grant from Eastenders, a right couple of troublemakers those two are. Any way, Mr B says he’s going to give one of them a job that keeps him out of the country all the time and away from bother. I wonder if he’s got him a job on the rigs or as a bricky in Germany. The other one is being sent to Lancaster. He must really hate him, it always rains in Lancaster! Mind you, did you see Sheffield this week? Talk about water. Mr Prescott who used to live near here (but still does but we aren’t supposed to mention it especially to his wife, or anybody’s wife come to mention it) said they might as well grow rice, and he should know, he’s had enough Chinese takeaways!

Well, that’s it for this letter. Mrs B says the work really starts next week, but I don’t know, Mr B said he started planning this ten years ago. The way he swans around the place you’d think he’d been here before.

Love Edith