"Mr Redwood! Please!"
Jonathan Dimbleby had already lost control of the situation, the fact that a moderator would be begging the troublemaker to stop had already made it clear there was no real moderation going on at all.
"I'm very sorry Mr Dimbleby but these are facts the public must know. I'll repeat it again, Ralph Miliband's love of the enemy has well known for years, it simple hasn't been spoken off until now because our masters found it inconvenient" The slow whisper resonated like a hiss, the gasping of the audience would have threatened to drown it out if the accuser hadn't been behind a microphone.
All was lost, evidently, the Prime Minister stood silently in a fit of embarrassment, mock or not he clearly didn't know what to do. Why was he smiling at the audience?
The Deputy Prime Minister was looking like a human being finally, in all the wrong ways, his outrage lacked coherency, it seemed as if his fathers dalliance with communism might have sunk him in the same way that his father had gone down to a torpedo during that mess in the Gulf of Tonkin.
Only the leader of the opposition remained, as it soon became clear that the defence of the father of the Deputy Prime Minister wouldn't be coming from the Deputy Prime Minister.
"Mr Redwood, Ralph Miliband was a man who loved Britain, as do I, as do the audience, as do those watching from home. We are all Ralph Miliband Mr Redwood, if you aren't then we need to ask why you are on this stage."
The audience wasn't meant to applaud.
---
The position of American commissioner carried a lot of weight in the free world, right now it was looking like a poisoned chalice with an ever increasing amount of venom. Axelrod had known he wasn't ready for the job, he'd been far too modern for it in the first place, but suicide was a traumatic business and he'd been the man on the spot when his predecessor had realised there was no money left. Children had stopped playing with clumps of useless pound notes at last, but collectors would still hand over dollars to have a framed copy of the limited edition of trillion pounds Sterling notes.
America's man in Britain, the most important man in Britain many complained, or secretly chucked about, depending on the side of the pond. This was the first "kissing of hands" for himself, the actual tradition had already been held between the Prime Minister and the King, the meeting between the new Prime Minister and the Ambassador-Commissioner had become a tradition in itself, although it had taken on it's own tedious formalities in the past 70 years.
Not for PM 'Timmeh' though, oh no, there was a new man in charge, a new party to boot. It had only taken Common Wealth 73 years to break the Grand Coalition but it had finally come, unfortunately it would be under his watch. The new Prime Minister had had refused to meet him at the embassy, it would have to be at No. 10. He only hoped his new colleague would remember that the building had been built with dollars, or rebuilt as many Britons liked to insist.
As the man entered the room at last, Alexrod realised that the figure on the television set really was the genuine article, so much modesty, so much optimism, it had to be a fake but he'd play along for as long as he could.
"Prime Minister Farron, on behalf of the American people and the President I would like like to congratulate you on your victory and extend my wishes for a long and successful continuation of the relationship between our two countries."
The man's grin grew comically wide.
"You finally agreed to meet me, thank God, I'm afraid we've got a lot of serious talking to do."
The Prime Minister swung himself onto the famous sofa that had seen so many meetings between Commissioners and Prime Ministers, he bounced a little as he landed. The two had never met, it had been American policy to do everything possible to not recognise him as a possible Prime Minister in the hope that the British electorate would take the hint.
"My role is to be a servant of the relationship between both nations, anything you wish to talk about might be better placed in a more formal context but I'm happy to the bridge of any communication between London and Washington.
"No you're right, we'll need the public to see is when we enter into the AFTA negotiation, they need to see me working on their behalf."
During the campaign Farron had been quiet about the Atlantic Free Trade Area, Redwood was allowed to vent his anger whilst he reaped the benefits.
"The sound workings of AFTA will always require discussion but I'm not sure we would sent the right message by labelling it a re-negation."
"Sorry Commissioner but that's the mandate I've been given, if you don't like it then I'm sure there are other areas we can move on."
Axelrod tried not to look uncomfortable, the Prime Minister was still smiling.
"The fruits for example, I know the last government was thinking about teaching young boys to kiss other boys. I'm not going to have that sort of filth, but I'll pinch my nose if you give me this."
"Or Berlin and Moscow, they're not as close as they used to be are they? It might be time to try and look at something beyond a truce, maybe stop using British money to fund those psychopaths around the Tarn."
The PCF had been a thorn in Vichy's side even before it had embraced Maoism, the televised beheadings of German and Vichy officials were becoming a bit of an embarrassment for America and Britain as of late.
"Lots of diplomats in Berlin who'd rather not have the Gestapo looking into their Jewish Great Great Grandparents, lots of diplomats in Moscow who are sick of cueing for Cabbage stew. Might be worth seeing if we can bring about some change there, of course that means talking to them. Give me AFTA and I'll keep schtum and declare our continued belief in Polish ownership of the Danzig Corridor."
"Prime Minister are these threats?" Axelrod wanted to leave, he wanted to resign.
"No commissioner, this is our Coaliton."
After seventy years of the special relationship, the tail had finally began to wag the dog.
Jonathan Dimbleby had already lost control of the situation, the fact that a moderator would be begging the troublemaker to stop had already made it clear there was no real moderation going on at all.
"I'm very sorry Mr Dimbleby but these are facts the public must know. I'll repeat it again, Ralph Miliband's love of the enemy has well known for years, it simple hasn't been spoken off until now because our masters found it inconvenient" The slow whisper resonated like a hiss, the gasping of the audience would have threatened to drown it out if the accuser hadn't been behind a microphone.
All was lost, evidently, the Prime Minister stood silently in a fit of embarrassment, mock or not he clearly didn't know what to do. Why was he smiling at the audience?
The Deputy Prime Minister was looking like a human being finally, in all the wrong ways, his outrage lacked coherency, it seemed as if his fathers dalliance with communism might have sunk him in the same way that his father had gone down to a torpedo during that mess in the Gulf of Tonkin.
Only the leader of the opposition remained, as it soon became clear that the defence of the father of the Deputy Prime Minister wouldn't be coming from the Deputy Prime Minister.
"Mr Redwood, Ralph Miliband was a man who loved Britain, as do I, as do the audience, as do those watching from home. We are all Ralph Miliband Mr Redwood, if you aren't then we need to ask why you are on this stage."
The audience wasn't meant to applaud.
---
The position of American commissioner carried a lot of weight in the free world, right now it was looking like a poisoned chalice with an ever increasing amount of venom. Axelrod had known he wasn't ready for the job, he'd been far too modern for it in the first place, but suicide was a traumatic business and he'd been the man on the spot when his predecessor had realised there was no money left. Children had stopped playing with clumps of useless pound notes at last, but collectors would still hand over dollars to have a framed copy of the limited edition of trillion pounds Sterling notes.
America's man in Britain, the most important man in Britain many complained, or secretly chucked about, depending on the side of the pond. This was the first "kissing of hands" for himself, the actual tradition had already been held between the Prime Minister and the King, the meeting between the new Prime Minister and the Ambassador-Commissioner had become a tradition in itself, although it had taken on it's own tedious formalities in the past 70 years.
Not for PM 'Timmeh' though, oh no, there was a new man in charge, a new party to boot. It had only taken Common Wealth 73 years to break the Grand Coalition but it had finally come, unfortunately it would be under his watch. The new Prime Minister had had refused to meet him at the embassy, it would have to be at No. 10. He only hoped his new colleague would remember that the building had been built with dollars, or rebuilt as many Britons liked to insist.
As the man entered the room at last, Alexrod realised that the figure on the television set really was the genuine article, so much modesty, so much optimism, it had to be a fake but he'd play along for as long as he could.
"Prime Minister Farron, on behalf of the American people and the President I would like like to congratulate you on your victory and extend my wishes for a long and successful continuation of the relationship between our two countries."
The man's grin grew comically wide.
"You finally agreed to meet me, thank God, I'm afraid we've got a lot of serious talking to do."
The Prime Minister swung himself onto the famous sofa that had seen so many meetings between Commissioners and Prime Ministers, he bounced a little as he landed. The two had never met, it had been American policy to do everything possible to not recognise him as a possible Prime Minister in the hope that the British electorate would take the hint.
"My role is to be a servant of the relationship between both nations, anything you wish to talk about might be better placed in a more formal context but I'm happy to the bridge of any communication between London and Washington.
"No you're right, we'll need the public to see is when we enter into the AFTA negotiation, they need to see me working on their behalf."
During the campaign Farron had been quiet about the Atlantic Free Trade Area, Redwood was allowed to vent his anger whilst he reaped the benefits.
"The sound workings of AFTA will always require discussion but I'm not sure we would sent the right message by labelling it a re-negation."
"Sorry Commissioner but that's the mandate I've been given, if you don't like it then I'm sure there are other areas we can move on."
Axelrod tried not to look uncomfortable, the Prime Minister was still smiling.
"The fruits for example, I know the last government was thinking about teaching young boys to kiss other boys. I'm not going to have that sort of filth, but I'll pinch my nose if you give me this."
"Or Berlin and Moscow, they're not as close as they used to be are they? It might be time to try and look at something beyond a truce, maybe stop using British money to fund those psychopaths around the Tarn."
The PCF had been a thorn in Vichy's side even before it had embraced Maoism, the televised beheadings of German and Vichy officials were becoming a bit of an embarrassment for America and Britain as of late.
"Lots of diplomats in Berlin who'd rather not have the Gestapo looking into their Jewish Great Great Grandparents, lots of diplomats in Moscow who are sick of cueing for Cabbage stew. Might be worth seeing if we can bring about some change there, of course that means talking to them. Give me AFTA and I'll keep schtum and declare our continued belief in Polish ownership of the Danzig Corridor."
"Prime Minister are these threats?" Axelrod wanted to leave, he wanted to resign.
"No commissioner, this is our Coaliton."
After seventy years of the special relationship, the tail had finally began to wag the dog.
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