#3 The Great British Bake Off Purge

23 Sep 2016

She came to me in the night.

 

I was sat at home, doing some phonebanking for #SuperWednesdayMorning (although the “super” element does wear off when it’s eight days a week), running my hands through my hair. Mama is always complaining, she says you cannot tell whether I have a haircut or not. Trouble is you see, I got one half of it shaved by my barber in Shoreditch but then wanted a more ethnic style so opted for some dreadlocks. I was only trying to show solidarity with my Rachel Dolezal but it turns out she’s only “politically black” too.

 

Anyway where was I?

 

Ah. Another Great Purge victim came to my door last night. I’d had a busy old day as I was charged with getting the press release out about the close of polls within four hours of them closing. And despite working under such tight deadlines, I’m happy to report dear diary, I did it! (Well almost — but 16.51 ain’t bad).

 

I didn’t recognise him at first, well until she took off her bowler hat.

 

“Do you want to come in out of the rain comrade?”

 

“Is it raining? I hadn’t noticed.”

 

I wasn’t sure if that was a line or not.

 

I made her a cup of herbal tea (proper tea is theft #banter) and put on GBBO.

 

Part of my new role as Head of Twitter Rebuttal and Thought Reform for the Office of the Leader of the Opposition is to make the case for bringing purged members like Mary, Mel and Sue back under state control under a new television station owned by reality TV workers. Though Hollywood, the shameless scab can feck right off.

 

Poppy relayed to me the story. She took her time about it to be Frank Butcher — but quite a chunk of that was her trying to convince me (like I needed convincing) — that her intentions were good.

 

I mean it’s not her fault so many MPs are acting like c***s, nor is it her fault if they have a problem with her campaigning for her local Tory MP because “he’s good on the environment” (though not so good with the Muslims it turns out).

 

I did what little I could and gave Angela Lansburyman a call. After a few phone calls to our data system provider in the Lubyanka Building, problem solved. She was back on the books and would get a concessionary vote for the next leadership election in three months time to make up for all the confusion.

 

Hoping she would leave me in peace, she wanted to stay over and discuss the 1922 Central Committee.

 

Good job I had a game of Risk on the go — I had scared my fellow players off after one of them dared to take Ukraine from me. I had a feeling Poppy was going to have her uses.

 

 

 

Read more of the satirical diaries

 

 

 

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