Things are so serious, Wing Commander Tom removes his hat…
Boris, King of Oxford gently closed the Cabinet office door behind them as he and Nigel Farage exited into the hallway. They watched as Wing Commander Tom and the Prime Minister scampered away towards her private office, engaged in animated whispering. Boris’ face resembled a bunched fist as he thrust his hands into his pockets and contemplated the current situation.
“I tell you, Nige old bean, Bozza does not like the flavour of things right now, not at all.”
“What are you thinking?” asked Nigel. “Do you think maybe… something went wrong?”
Boris sighed like an unknotted balloon.
“I knew you should have been keeping an eye on the kidnap,” he grumbled. “Rather than feasting your eyes on the royal arsenal, what!”
“Actually, Boris, it wasn’t you I was observing, as such…”
“Look here, we need to do a little intelligence gathering of our own, post haste!” Boris turned to…
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