Jack Tindale's face was less red than usual, thanks to a thick layer of foundation applied by the pretty makeup girl, but Thande did wonder whether the folks at home would get as strong a splash of beetroot as he was in the studio.
"Good to go?" Jack asked with a smile.
"I'm raring to go," said LancyIain, "thanks for having me on again."
"It's a pleasure. I'm really looking forward to Geordie's special report on the Green Party - apparently he's done it in the style of a Downfall parody."
Thande shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but gave an approving nod and a smile. Ever since the Politibrit Broadcasting Corporation had got off the ground, he'd been at its heart. Election nights and Newsnight saw him at his best, but the cloying atmosphere of Tindale's late-night politics chat show made him feel nauseous.
The floor manager shouted something incomprehensible, and the red lights flicked on.
"Welcome," said Jack with a loud 'aha', "to Politibrit This Week!"
The familiar jingle kicked in, along with a terrible animation that tried to imply this evening's guests were all members of
Kingsman: The Secret Service. Jack picked his nose. Thande tried not to watch.
"Before we get into the excellent news streaming in from the Lecternverse - Tim Congdon's meltdown in the tearooms has just leaked to YouTube, a quick look at the latest projected results in the general election 2015 over in Zonen - yep, they're exactly the same. Okay. Moving on, we have a quick plug for our very own presenter of
Have I Got Alternate News For You, Meadow!"
Fake applause played through the speakers.
"I'm more than happy to plug this," said LancyIain enthusiastically, "I really liked
For Want Of A Paragraph, and I'm very pleased to see it's been nominated in the Turtledoves."
Thande nodded.
"Absolutely, I think it was a great work. Meadow even wrote a section of it with me in mind. And the joke about Geordie accents was great!"
Jack gave a fierce nod.
"I also thought it was a great work of alternate history," he said pointedly, to which both men gave supportive noises.
"Absolutely," LancyIain said, "any fool can put together a complex timeline spanning hundreds of years, starting with PODs as varied as a king tripping over on a bit of carpet, some letters not being found in a drawer, or a Louisiana politician entering a Presidential race. It takes a real master to write a timeline where not much actually changes, but there are jokes about handjobs and a scene between Ed and David Miliband that was clearly ripped off from
Star Wars."
"The prequel trilogy, too!" added Thande.
"I quite agree," said Jack, grimacing in an attempt at a wry gin, "but before we go on I will just have to say that I've been told that David Steel has insisted he won't be resigning as Prime Minister after Mr Owen's declaration of no confidence in him over in the Falklands Loss universe."
"Probably a wise move," LancyIain said.
"Yes," said Thande, "David Owen has yet to meaningfully triumph in any universe, including our own, so I don't think Steel has much to worry about."
"You never know, maybe he'll shoot himself!" Jack chuckled darkly, "and finally in cross-universe news: Enoch Powell has just become Prime Minister in somebody's Facebook status. That's the third time this week."
"If I could just repeat the plug for Meadow's timeline," LancyIain said, "I really think it's a fine work worthy of recognition."
"And, of course," began Jack with a look to the camera, "you can vote by clicking
here."
Thande looked confused.
"'Clicking here'? What's going on?"
Jack gave a cheeky wink to the camera, and Thande was quietly dragged out of the studio by two men wearing the uniforms of Mass Observation.
"That's all for us until after the break," said Jack, "goodnight for now, and remember: wherever you are, Fight And Be Right."
Jack gazed up at the enormous camera. Six years it had taken him to learn what kind of genius was hidden behind the eyes of the infrastructure expert. O cruel, needless misunderstanding! O stubborn, self-willed exile from the Blairite Mosley! Two gin-scented tears trickled down the sides of his nose. But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved EdT.