Vouchers for Honours (or squirrels eat Tony Blair)

(The doorbell of Froosh Towers rings. Froosh opens the front door)

Froosh: Hello? Oh dear.
Man: Hello there, happy voter. My name, is, Tony Blair. You might recognise me from, such television shows as; Ant and Dec's Saturday Night Takeaway and Tony and June, where I proved, myself, to be a man, of the people.
Froosh: No. But I do recognise you from such atrocities as the Iraq War and the crisis in NHS where you proved yourself to be a complete twat.

(pause)

Tony Blair: Well. Never mind, that now. Yeah? I would like to; speak to your, daughter. Please.
Froosh: What for?
Tony Blair: Well, I have the offer of, you know, a lifetime for her.
Froosh: And that is?
Tony Blair: I’m aware that; recently, she has come into a bit of money. Right? Yeah?
Froosh: Are you talking about her child trust fund voucher?
Tony Blair: That’s right. Thanks to Gordon. Well, you know, I was thinking that if, she was to give that to me, I would give her a peerage. What do you think? Yeah?
Froosh: A peerage?
Tony Blair: Yeah. Why not?
Froosh: You want her child trust fund voucher and in return you’ll give her a peerage?
Tony Blair: Yeah. What? It’s a win win.
Froosh: So it’s vouchers for honours now is it?
Tony Blair: Yeah, the whole; cash for honours thing? Didn’t really, work out. Poor, Lord, Levy. Terrible business. But. The party or whatever it is, won’t fund, itself. Will it? Do you know what I mean?

(pause)

Froosh: Why can’t you speak properly? It’s virtually impossible to understand anything that you say.
Tony Blair: Whatever. Yeah? Anyway can I speak to your daughter or what? I’m a; busy man, you know. Busy. I’ve got to get back to number ten, Cherie will have finished, warming the toilet seat for me, by, now.
Froosh: No you can’t speak to her.
Tony Blair: So, you don’t want her; to have a peerage, then?
Froosh: No. I don’t.
Tony Blair: I see. Can I have the voucher anyway?
Froosh: I’m closing the door now.
Tony Blair: No, don’t. Please. I need, the money. Cherie wants, me, to buy her some, polo ponies.
Froosh: Get your head out of the way or I’ll shut it in the door.
Tony Blair: You know. Please.
Froosh: No. Are you crying? Jesus, don't cry.
Tony Blair: What about; Leo’s school, fees? Please.
Froosh: No.
Tony Blair: Give me; the voucher. I’m the Prime Minister, you know, you have to; do what I say.
Froosh: I will not hesitate to set the squirrels on you. They haven’t tasted human flesh in a while.
Tony Blair: I’m not, scared, of a couple of; squirrels.
Froosh: That’s fighting talk, you know.
Tony Blair: Bring it, on, yeah?

(A cloud covers the sun as the birds cease their happy chatter. The sound of thousands of tiny footsteps is audible in the distance. It is a sound to chill the blood; menacing and portentous.)

Tony Blair: Oh, dear.
Froosh: You could try offering them a peerage each. There’s more than one way to reform the House of Lords, after all.