Corvid Sketch Episode XXIII: Decor without the Decorum

 

The renovations to No. 11 Downing Street have got to be the most controversial in politicaldom since the days of MP expenses claims for duck islands and moat cleaning. Overseen by Prime Minister Carrie Symonds and her fiancé Boris Johnson, the works are believed to have cost up to £200,000. While big questions remain about who has payed for them, the Scavenger Bird of Satire has flown through an open window to report back on exactly what has been bought for this premier political pad. 

Theresa May’s John Lewis furniture was branded a ‘nightmare’ and has been thrown out. Units from Ikea have been rejected as not Brexit-y enough while Argos has been ignored because it’s toasters and kettles don’t come with gold leaf.

Lush carpets, sofas and portraits are sourced with help from a luxury designer who sells fabric at £100 a meter. There is gold everywhere. What else for the eton-educated every-man resident while he carries out the ‘peoples’ priorities’.  In the kitchen, there is a special box of silver spoons for Carrie and Boris’ child when it is born.

In line with PM Carrie’s environmental concerns there is no fur and everything comes from a sustainable source: Tory donor Lord Brownlow’s bank account.

And of course there are the statues: suffragette founder Emmeline Pankhurst, 18th century slave and abolitionist Olaudah Equiano and former athlete now Peer, Tanni Grey-Thompson. No, i’m kidding, they are all Churchill. Winston Churchill is f*cking everywhere. A bust of Churchill in every room. Glaring down on the master bed, staring you in the eyes as you sit on the downstairs toilet. Boris wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Down a red carpeted corridor there’s private office with a desk, phone and littleblack book: all for keeping Boris’s affairs in order.

There’s also a special VIP room for friends and family who would like multi-million pound government contracts for PPE supplies or COVID tests. As the Scavenger Bird of Satire flew past a number of eminently qualified business people were waiting for their contracts and enjoying a complimentary taxpayer funded foot massage. They included Matt Hancock’s favourite pub landlord, a pet shop owner, a celebrity coke dealer, one of the Cheeky Girls and a Dalek.  

It hasn’t all been glitzy new furniture and gold. There have been a number of structural issues which needed addressing. Carrie Symonds wanted the John Lewis furniture out and the hundreds of thousands spent in order to make somewhere that felt Prime Ministerial: wallpapering over the cracks in Boris’s credibility. There was also a large plumbing bill. Upon cracking open the pipes it was revealed that text messages, whatsapps and emails have been leaking out of Number 10 Downing Street for some time. Soundproofing was needed lest someone take the Prime Minister out of context for the thousandth time.

Much of the money has been spent on trying to get rid of a shadowy stain left by former adviser and Dr Evil’s ‘Older Me’, Dominic Cummings. It is believed that weapons grade bleach, a crack team of Polish plasterers and an exorcist have all failed to dislodge the grotesque mark. What is left is a dark void in a corner where integrity and common decency should be. Not that there was much of that kicking around the flat to begin with.