"You only have to kick in the door and the whole rotten structure will come crashing down."
"Oi! Oi!"
Jeremy Paxman could only roll his eyes as his guest for the night entered the studio. The man strode towards him like a cat burglar trying to avoid creaking floor boards, an imposing figure in his black tunic suit.
"Alright Jez? Sorry for the, er, wait."
"Please at least try and not make an arse of this Matt." Paxman pointed to the comfy dark chair across from him motioned for King to sit down. He would have taken anything except 'Jez.' Even 'Paxo'.
The only reason he was doing this farcical special was that he wanted another go at the man across from him. The money Netflix had offered him was excellent of course and he didn't quite mind the idea that that would be the impression given off by this exercise. An old codger making a quick buck on tearing apart a ghost from the past, a flippant portrayal of something he would happily have done for free.
The Netflix studio was a far cry away from Television Centre, the cosy little satellite office more closely resembled the set of Mastermind with an amateur photographers basement, He supposed that most of the heavy lifting of production was done by machines these days. It was an emerging era that he had no longer been comfortable in, one where his guest had thrived. Tonight, that would come to an end.
The producer silently signalled to him that they were about to begin, and as awkwardly similar music to the Newsnight theme played he turned to face the camera. He was more than aware that his guest was staring at him intently. Always watching him.
"Hello. Good Morning. Good Afternoon. And. Good Evening to the first of 'Paxman Reflects', a series of specials where I, and a guest, shall consider the state of society and how it even might be getting worse."
From the corner of his eye, he saw his guest crack a smirk before he returned to the neutral gaze.
"There's been a lot of call for our guest tonight, and whilst I might be seen by some of you as an elitist I am also a democrat. Unlike my guest I believe in honesty and that's why I've had him on first. To get it over with."
The camera panned to the wiry Chairman Mao impersonator.
"Matt King is a former actor, comedian, and DJ and having failed in all those ventures has decided to pass himself off as a political advisor. His self-indulgent style of missionary appeal made him a Youtube sensation, before his book 'Reformation' became a best seller amongst the sort of people who have ensured that Waterstones' self-help section is larger than the combined rows of history and politics. Naturally this is why Ed Miliband attached him to his team in 2014, where some have said that King played a crucial role in making him our current Prime Minister. I, of course, disagree with these people."
He didn't.
"And that is why tonight I can hopefully expose this man for what he is, a charlatan, a fraudster, and a symbol of mid-life crisis for a government reliant on the good grace of a party which wishes to tear this country apart. My first question tonight is whether or not he agrees with my analysis, as it would mean that we could all go home earlier."
Matt King shifted uncomfortable in his chair.
"That was a fantastic introduction Jez, you've really done something there. Really, you know, moreish. Making me out to be some sort of anomaly."
King paused for a moment, only to continue on in the same way, as if he were thinking outloud.
"I suppose I am an anomaly in that I'm pretty honest about what I'm hoping to project. That's why all my other, er, pursuits, had to be packed in. Couldn't take the lies anymore."
King's hands moved along like he were stroking an imaginary piano, before coming back into place. Paxman could only shake his hand at such waffle.
"You were sick of lies, so you decided to become a spin-doctor."
King arched his shoulders defensively.
"Who am I a spin-doctor for?"
"The Prime Minister."
The hands were back in another soothing motion.
"Ed's a good bloke, Jez. He sometimes asks me what I think and sometimes he even acts on it." That, at least, made Paxman smile.
"And how do you feel, working for someone who only occasionally listens to you, and only occasionally acts on your advice. Isn't that the complete opposite of projecting the truth?" King shifted in his seat defensively.
I've got him.
"Mr King, isn't the real truth that you're an accessory to a political party that struggled to enthuse young people to come out and vote for them? Aren't you, in the words of the leader of the opposition, "The Super Hands of Westminster. The ever more incompetent best friend of the incompetent."?"
"Totally agree." King was staring at him earnestly.
"You do?!"
"Well, maybe not the whole bleedin', spiel, there was no need to compare me to Russell Brand."
Paxman didn't bother to ask who Russell Brand was, or what he had to do with a pair of super powered hands.
"But you agree that you're an accessory?"
"Yep!"
Where is this going?
King leaned towards him, his eyes brightened by the stage light.
"I couldn't be like you, Jez. Couldn't sit at the front. Otherwise I couldn't tell the truth. This way I can, and if Ed doesn't always listen then millions of people do."
"If you're trying to compare journalistic integrity I ca-"
"You're journalistic integrity's the problem, Jez! You're terrified to say what you think.To lead people towards something better." Paxman could only scoff.
"I don't want to lead people, I want to find things out. That's why I'm a journalist."
"You're a journalist, Jez, because you're scared of seizing anything for yourself. You want power but you're too scared to seize it. So you analyse it instead, yeah?"
"Are these the sort of crackpot conversations you have with the Prime Minister?"
As Matt King continued that all consuming stare, Jeremy Paxman began to wonder whether or not this had been a bad idea.
"I didn't say he always listens, did I Jez? But the point is, when I speak, I'm putting an agenda forward. I don't put forward the sort of toss that you do, hogging the attention for yourself, and then doing nothing with it. That's a mugs game."
"So I'm a mug then? I think I've had that one before."
"You are a mug Jez, but I genuinely feel bad for you. You feel that you understand the world around you well enough to know that it can't be changed. And so you don't try. What's worse, you actively sneer at the people who do. That's why I'm in the inner circle now, and you're on Netflix. You were distraction, and now you're just a fluff piece. That's why you have a camera in front of you. That's why you can't get me like you could get all the other sad acts back in the day."
Jeremy Paxman could only grin, as King stormed off of the set. Looking into the camera, and for the first time he noticed the device was staring back.
"Well I'm sorry my guest hasn't been accomodating tonight, but apparently we're all mugs." Only his own head did he finish the sentence.
If we weren't I wouldn't have had to make him up.
He only hoped there wasn't someone reading his thoughts.
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