The Greasy Spoon - 28th April 2026

—They’re a fucking let down, that lot, Bob.

—Who?

—MPs

—Ah, the vote on Starmer yer mean?

—Yep. Shite.

—There was no way that vote was gonna carry with a a Labour majority in the House.

—Don’t get all technical, I wanna ‘ave a bloody good moan.

—Right. Good win for the City. 3-1 against Wrexham. That’ll do.

—Yer right, but stop deflecting.

—Yeah, but fuckin’ politics, mate. Boring. How yer feeling now?

—Shite.

—Sleeping any better?

—Nope. Did yer see that McSweeney fella? Fucking hell, yer wouldn’t want to play tig with him.

—Eh?

—The amount of dodging and weaving he does.

—I didn’t bother watching it.

—I turned it off. There’s a limit to how many times yer can shout BULLSHIT at yer own tele.

—Ha! I can imagine yer doing that.

—The King is doing alright with the Donald though, it seems.

—Ah now, that’s an important job he’s gotta do over there. Tell our American friends we do like ‘em.

—Yeah, it’s just that our prime minster is a nobhead.

—wouldn’t it be funny, that?

—Go on?

—“Ey up, Donald…” The King leans in close. “Starmer, mate. He’s a fuckin’ nobhead.” The Donald nods, “Ah, yes, Charles. I agree. Still, he’ll be gone soon, right?” The King grins. “Oh aye, fuckin’ right.”

—Hahahahaha! Love that. Bob mate, that’s cheered me right up!

—Right, good, get the sarnies in, then.