Theresa May and her one remaining loyal colleague (not so much a colleague as a toilet roll) played a blinder overnight as she seeks to increase the chances of her Brexit deal getting through parliament.
“Who will rid me of this troublesome speaker?” Ms May was heard to shout, while in the 10 Downing Street W.C., “I need a pliant speaker!”
What followed, according to unreliable witnesses, was a muttered discussion, before Ms May emerged fragrant and triumphant.
“I love it when a plan comes together!” she exulted the empty room, lucky toilet roll raised high.
From that moment it was all go. Our parliamentary correspondent has the scoop.
“The moment she conceived of the wheeze to privatise the office of the speaker it was non-stop action inside 10 Downing Street,” says our ear to the door, “she was on the blower and straight onto Seaborne Freight to see if they wanted to supply a new, zero hours contract speaker to fill the seat left vacant by disloyal old Bercs.”
But isn’t the job of choosing a speaker that of parliament?
”Not since the passing of the EU Withdrawal Bill last year and a little noticed clause giving the executive the power to instantly outsource any office of state so long as it’s first labelled ‘unforeseen’ and an ‘emergency’.”
And getting rid of Bercow is an emergency?
”Most definitely! He’s baffling the hell out of all the other old boys. He’s a Tory MP putting an interest that is not that of the Tory Party first. Complex and dangerous mind game to play. The entire fabric of our governance is tearing apart. Both sides of the house know party interests first. That’s the rule. May had to act.”
But will Seaborne Freight be able to supply a speaker in time for today?
”Of course, they’ve pulled one of the spotty teenagers out of catering college and told them it’s down to the Commons for you and not the ship’s mess.”
But they won’t know what to do.
”Of course they will. They’ll do exactly what the executive branch tells them to do.”
Order! Order! What would you like to order?