As Keir Starmer returns to the back benches, his colleagues in Number 10 have had a whip round for a leaving present.
‘He is difficult to buy for,’ said a twelve-year-old policy wonk. ‘He’s got all the suits and spectacles that he needs. He’s not really the type to wear an Arsenal shirt, not even in bed. He doesn’t seem to enjoy very much at all.
‘Our first thought was to get him an Amazon voucher, but he couldn’t be seen to support Bezos. Our second idea was a whisky dispenser, but the optics of that didn’t look good.
‘So we finally settled on buying him a bench. We thought that he could use it in his garden, and he can choose whether to call it the front bench or the back bench. It could be useful for him to have a little joke to lighten the mood if people visit.
‘The bench represents thoughtfulness, reflection, and repose. And it represents transparency, because you can see through the slats. And it’s not going anywhere. And all his parliamentary colleagues can come and sit on the bench, in much the same way that they all sat on Keir. Oh, and the bench also reflects the fact that we didn’t have very much to spend. We’ll sort out the full funding package at the next budget.
'Andy hasn’t chipped in, by the way. Northerners, eh?’
Image credit: deep dream generator (edited)
