Becoming Prime Minister, a divorce, a new mistress, making her a fiance, covid-19, intensive care and now a new child: Wilfred Lawrie Nicholas de Pefeffled Everywhere Churchill Ataturk Johnson. It's enough to take it out of a man. You can imagine him, after a long day of doing what Dom tells him, collapsing into his favourite armchair and savouring a glass of vintage claret. With Carrie asleep, Matt Hancock momentarily distracted and his blackberry hidden in a teapot, Boris has just enough time to open the last remaining presents welcoming baby Wilfred into the world.
A rather bulky present from Michael Gove. He had kindly bought the child a mini stab proof vest and a card, "It's reinforced on the back, in case you know what happens. Luke warm regards, Daddy's friend Michael"... hmmm.
Stars and stripes wrapping, who could this be from? Concerned that any delivery would have an impact on the great people at the US Postal service, Donald had sent a private jet over to RAF Northolt with a subscription to hustler magazine and a bottle of Dettol. "To baby Boris Jr, you'll know what to do, you have a great Dad, some say the second best in the whole world". Perhaps not mused Boris. At least he couldn't fuck up as bad as the Donald, in fatherhood or running the country.
Next a present for Boris, from Jacob Rees Mogg no less: a blazer with the words, 'vidi vici veni' stitched in gold thread followed by the number six in roman numerals. Child number six? That's what Jacob thinks, chuckled Boris mentally patting himself on the back. Jacob doesn't know what happened with the receptionist at the Hilton la Bongo Bongo. Or was it the hotel owner? He could never remember. God he missed the Foreign Office.
Oh this is nice, nappies for the baby, some relaxing bubble bath for Carrie and a celebratory bottle of Cognac for Boris. From Dom! Actual Dominic Cummings. Crikey that was unexpected, so thoughtful. Boris's phone buzzed, 'You were fucking shit at PMQs. I'm pulling you from the Marr interview'. Haha that's more like it, classic Dom.
Priti Patel next, a British citizenship test, "What fun" chuckled Boris, "Just like Odysseus testing the loyalty of Penelope so Pretty is testing little Wilfred's loyalty to Britannia." There was also a letter explaining that if Wilfred failed he would be deported to Turkey. I should really reign her in, Boris thought. He suspected that left unchecked she'd carry on deporting until it was just her left, sat in the Tower of London yelling at the ravens to detain themselves.
There were a few items left, a jar of courgette chutney from Corbyn, a copy of the European Convention on Human Rights from Kier and a box of face masks from Matt Hancock.
Bloody facemasks, so that's where they've all gone thought Boris.
"Someone should really do something about that... or at least address the nation about it"...
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