TLIAW: The UK Presidential Election - 2015
- Thread starter Lord Roem
- Start date
Thande
Donor
I expect to see Fabricant in analogue lists as our Donald Trump now you've made more people aware of him...
We forget the very specific responsibilities the Home Secretary used to have, like organising the PM's private detective and issuing personal handwritten letters to authorise exhumations, etc.
I thought it was fairly well known; it's one of those things always brought up in documentaries about the monarchy.
We forget the very specific responsibilities the Home Secretary used to have, like organising the PM's private detective and issuing personal handwritten letters to authorise exhumations, etc.
Yeah, the same has occurred to me!
Sideways
Donor
I spent a year researching obscure facts about the monarchy and missed that one. But then, before that I spent a lifetime avoiding the monarchy at all costs. In the Sideways House we call documentaries about kings and things "Star Wars Bullshit" and we'll generally opt for social history instead.
My guess for the twist ending is that the queen is still holding the reigns of power in some bizarre but very British way, maybe she chairs the Accession Committee or something.
Well, she is kind of the source of social standing. Especially in the upper classes.
So going against her (in a more personal and non antimonarchial way*) would a very good way of being socially ostracised from a lot of people who have money and/or influence.
* I suspect that genuine republicans would get along with her very well. A bit like how my very catholic tea drinking grandma got on with my very atheist coffee drinking nan.
As for Canada I would be sure that due to the unanimity clause respecting the office of Queen( a republic would require approval by all provinces) that Canada remains (nominally) a monarchy with a Governor General.
In any event a UK presidency would create a constitutional crisis given that Canada has no provision for a Regency i would be a quite interest legal question what would happen in this situation, The funnest I think would be Canada proclaims the Duke of York as King Andrew(partly Canadian educated two heirs not Charles or tied to the Diana Crisis)
In any event a UK presidency would create a constitutional crisis given that Canada has no provision for a Regency i would be a quite interest legal question what would happen in this situation, The funnest I think would be Canada proclaims the Duke of York as King Andrew(partly Canadian educated two heirs not Charles or tied to the Diana Crisis)
EIGHT
Friday 8th May 2015
5:23am
On Emily Maitlis’ giant iPad, a slightly over-stylised map of Scotland was slowly turning from broadly yellow to mostly red, and the little 3D men and women were taking on more crimson hues, too. Representing constituency and list MPs in the voting system for the Scottish parliament was a tricky affair, but the Beeb appeared to have pulled it off.
“And as we all probably expected, based on that high-but-not-high-enough New Deal vote in Scotland earlier, the SNP are projected to lose control of Holyrood. Gordon Brown, truly the comeback kid of British politics, will very likely return to high office in the next few days, as First Minister of Scotland.”
“But he’ll need the Lib Dems’ help,” Jeremy Vine chimed in, hovering at Maitlis’ shoulder.
“He will indeed - as it happens, I think we can go over to Mr Brown at his count in Kirkcaldy now - David?”
The beaming face of the former Prime Minister, looking happier than many people had seen him in years, appeared on the screen.”
“Mr Brown,” Dimbleby began, “thank-you for joining us this mor-”
“-a pleasure to be with you, David,” Brown interrupted, “how are you?”
Dimbleby became flustered by the rare compliment, Brown continued.
“I should mention that I’m not in Kirkcaldy at the present time, much as I would like to be, you’ve actually caught me in a certain high street coffee outlet in Waverley Station!”
That had become clear. A few early morning commuters walked by, looking taken aback at the sight of the incoming First Minister being interviewed in a haze of steamed milk.
“Apologies, eh, Mr Brown,” Dimbleby continued, “congratulations on your re-election. Emily referred to you as ‘The Comeback Kid’ just now, what do you have to say to that?”
Brown mused for a moment before replying.
“Well, er, David, I would have to say that - speaking frankly - I never really felt that I’d been away. Certainly, we do have a few seats still to be declared, but I did receive a very gracious telephone call from John Swinney about an hour ago, and - all things being equal - I look forward to serving as First Minister, should the arithmetic in the new Scottish Parliament be on our side.”
“I was about to say,” Dimbleby began, “that only three years ago, people were calling you a spent force. Certainly, when you read the reports in Mr Blair’s biography and Peter Mandelson’s diaries, you really don’t come across as the sort of person who likes to stick to political agreements. Do you really think that the Scottish Liberal Democrats can trust you?”
A brief flash of anger flushed along Brown’s face, but soon dissipated.
“David,” he replied, “a lot of angry words have been expressed in recent years. They all refer to events that happened, you know, ten, twelve years ago. I am more interested in looking towards the future, to working with James Purnell’s government in Westminster, to welcoming the new President to Edinburgh as soon as she can...”
“Or he”, Dimbleby corrected.
“Yes, of course, or as soon as he can,” Brown said, “I understand that an invitation has already been extended for them to open the new Edinburgh-Carlisle Railway, for example. Regardless, as I have said throughout this campaign, the priorities for any new Scottish government must be in securing a new constitutional settlement for full fiscal devolution, bringing about the vital investment in our infrastructure that has been neglected for so long, and - most importantly - in bringing our schools and hospitals back to the levels that the Scottish people deserve.”
Perhaps it was the fact that he had about thirty minutes until retirement, but Dimbleby smiled.
“I am sure that we look forward to seeing it, and perhaps talking to you about it when Question Time is in Glasgow next month.”
“If I may, David, that’s not going to be the same without you,” Brown replied.
“You’re very kind, but Krishnan is a very good broadcaster. He’ll bring new life to it.”
Brown nodded, smiled and was replaced by a panorama of the national count in Wembley. The camera briefly flashed over to Peter Kellner, who was sharing a joke with Tony Travers, before settling back on Emily Maitlis.
“We’ll hopefully be hearing from the LSE’s Tony Travers, who is actually Chairing the Constitutional Review that Mr Brown alluded to, after the breakfast news, but in the meantime, does what he said stack up, Emily?”
Maitlis brought up her map of Scotland.
“It certainly is looking that way,” she said, zooming in on the central belt, “with all but a few seats on the Regional Lists now declared, we can see that Scottish Labour are now well ahead of the SNP in terms of seats, and the only question is whether or not Mr Brown will want to go for a coalition with the LibDems or - as he alluded to on the campaign trail - maybe go for a Swinney-style minority administration. Regardless, it looks like those people who have been predicting the end of the Union will have to wait for another four years.”
The map moved back out and shifted to the Presidential results, and Emily looked confused for a moment, then looked off-camera. Finding no answers there, she spoke.
“I… we’re going live, we’re going live to Canterbury, where the South East England result, not usually expected until much later than now, is… ready. It’s being declared we’re-”
Presumably Maitlis had been about to say ‘going live’ again, for this was what BBC One did. A man with glasses was reading out the results already.
”...Sir Menzies, Liberal Democrats: 315,420
Legge, William, UK Independence Party: 566,779
Tatchell, Peter, Red-Green Platform For Change: 62,234
Portillo, Michael, Conservatives Now: 491,222
Rowling, Joanne, Labour Party: 472,901
Sturgeon, Nicola, New Deal: 14,571
Windsor, Charles Philip, Green Party GB: 190,416
Vorderman, Carol, William V Rex: 49,552.”
Legge, William, UK Independence Party: 566,779
Tatchell, Peter, Red-Green Platform For Change: 62,234
Portillo, Michael, Conservatives Now: 491,222
Rowling, Joanne, Labour Party: 472,901
Sturgeon, Nicola, New Deal: 14,571
Windsor, Charles Philip, Green Party GB: 190,416
Vorderman, Carol, William V Rex: 49,552.”
Polly Evans of Look South East spoke in voiceover, but could not be heard over the whooping by UKIP and Labour supporters. The man with glasses had to roar to be heard above them.
“I therefore declare that four of the South East England constituency electoral votes go to William Legge, three go to Michael Portillo, and three go to Joanne Rowling.”
The room erupted again, and Polly Evans briefly appeared, but before she could say anything, Dimbleby had returned to the screen.
“Well, a surprise result, there. In every sense. Peter Kellner?”
The pollster nodded forcefully. “Very surprising. We don’t expect the South East until about 7 or 8am, so the count must have happened very quickly tonight. And what a result - three parties jockeying for pole position, and Labour in their strongest ever South East performance.”
“Surely no-one but Rowling could have secured it?” Nick Robinson asked.
Kellner nodded again. “Unquestionably. The key to winning a Presidential election in this country is a personal vote, and Ms Rowling has that - clearly - in spades. When the most right-leaning area of the country gives Labour’s candidate almost half a million votes, and at a time when Labour are struggling in government, too, something magical is happening.”
Dimbleby audibly groaned. “We said no Harry Potter jokes. So what happens now?”
“Well, with the East Midlands in hand too, those electoral votes give Ms Rowling 23 in total. Still somewhat shy of the 37 needed to win, but it’s not impossible for her to get them. Whatever happens, she is very likely to become President.”
“What do you mean by ‘whatever happens’?”
“Jeremy helpfully explained the ‘hung college’ procedures earlier tonight. I don’t think it will come to that, but we’ve underestimated UKIP and Legge’s ‘breakout success’ throughout this campaign. He is unlikely to win, but his performance is providing a very good case study for why electoral colleges don’t work when you have more than two parties.”
“Alright, I must stop you there, because results are coming thick and fast now,” Dimbleby said, stifling a yawn, “I understand we can now go live to Birmingham, where the delayed West Midlands result is about to be decla-”
This time, Dimbleby was cut off mid-word, which was perhaps preferable to leaving him staring at the camera in silence. Mary Rhodes, meanwhile, was in full flow.
“-after more than an hour of no activity - remember we haven’t seen a recount here, just a delay in receiving the ballot boxes from Solihull, which itself caused further delays when questions were raised over exactly what the hold-up was. Birmingham is a city very much on-edge when it comes to elections, for reasons there’s no time to go into now. Ah, the returning officer has begun…”
Indeed she had. The short woman behind the microphone stand had just completed the opening spiel of her duties.
“...as follows:
Campbell, Sir Menzies, Liberal Democrats: 110,222
Legge, William, UK Independence Party: 290,412
Tatchell, Peter, Red-Green Platform For Change: 42,110
Portillo, Michael, Conservatives Now: 260,981
Rowling, Joanne, Labour Party: 413,679
Sturgeon, Nicola, New Deal: 12,003
Windsor, Charles Philip, Green Party GB: 41,255
Vorderman, Carol, William V Rex: 9,284
Yaqoob, Salma, PLATFORM: 10,301”
Legge, William, UK Independence Party: 290,412
Tatchell, Peter, Red-Green Platform For Change: 42,110
Portillo, Michael, Conservatives Now: 260,981
Rowling, Joanne, Labour Party: 413,679
Sturgeon, Nicola, New Deal: 12,003
Windsor, Charles Philip, Green Party GB: 41,255
Vorderman, Carol, William V Rex: 9,284
Yaqoob, Salma, PLATFORM: 10,301”
“I therefore declare that three of the West Midlands constituency electoral votes go to Joanne Rowling, two go to William Legge, and two to Michael Portillo.”
The result received a more muted result than expected. In the studio, Nick Robinson was looking up from his notes as Dimbleby continued.
“Well. Not quite the barnstorming result Labour must have been hoping for. What does that do for the tallies, Jeremy?”
Vine was in a black void, but his little coloured friends were clambering up the ‘walls’. A lot of them were red, but a fair few were purple or blue. “Ms Rowling is now on 26 electoral votes, and the East of England and South West are not strong areas for Labour. We may be here a while longer.”
“We shall see. While our boffins, and no doubt the party machines, work out what happens next, I gather you have a round-up of another set of elections for us?”
“Yes indeed,” Vine replied, “if you’d like to join me inside my Virtual Palace of Westminster...”
The black void he was standing in was replaced by a CGI interpretation of the Upper Chamber like a level from a very dull first-person shooter. Lord Senators appeared out of the digital ether as the camera swung up into the rafters.
“As we can see,” Vine continued as various coloured blocks emerged on the seats, “we can understand that - whilst Labour have seen their candidates triumph in the Presidential and Scottish races - they have enjoyed rather less success in the elections for the House of Lords.”
The coloured blocks re-arranged themselves in various bars.
“We currently have 450 people sitting on the red benches, all of whom are elected for 12 year terms every four years. This means that - out of those - we had 150 seats up for grabs this time around. Now, in 2011 - Labour came out on top rather handily as the vote coincided with John Denham’s general election victory in the House of Commons. This time around...”
A large chunk of the Labour bar broke off and shot over into the Conservative and Lib Dem ones.
“...oh dear. Bad news for Mr Purnell. Until tonight, the Prime Minister’s party had enough seats in the House of Lords to make case-by-case voting arrangements with the 100 or so ‘Crossbenchers’ - the non-partisan Lord Senators who are appointed by the Prime Minister, and a set number of Life Senators that are in the gift of the President. If we go back to the 2011 results and plonk the Crossbenchers on top of the Labour seats...”
This happened, a white line showing that the two groups put the Government into majority territory.
“...we saw how easy it was - at least theoretically - for the Government Whips to get contentious legislation, such as the Digital Economy Act and the ratification of the Treaty of Riga, through to Presidential Assent without too much trouble. This time around, just look how the maths has changed...”
The graphic flashed back to the evening’s results.
“...yes, even if all the Crossbenchers voted as a block (and, of course, they hardly ever do), the loss of nearly forty seats means that the Conservatives and LibDems alone can block pretty much anything that the government throws at them. Now, of course, we know that their Lord Senatorships are a much more cautious than their colleagues in the House of Commons, but even so, this looks like Mr Purnell is going to have a lot more trouble getting his programme of government through before the next General Election.”
The camera flashed back to David Dimbleby, who clearly hadn’t been paying too much attention.
“Thank you for that Jeremy. I think - er - I think that Andrew actually has one of those Crossbenchers with him now.”
A well-dressed man with a flamboyant pocket square was enjoying a joke with Andrew Neil.
“Thanks David, I’m joined by King Cobra himself, the inventor of everyone’s favourite accompaniment to curry, Lord Senator Karan Bilimoria.”
Bilimoria smiled.
“Thank-you Andrew, before you ask me any questions, I’d like to congratulate President-elect Rowling on her victory in the Presidential election. She introduced millions of young boys and girls to the joy of reading, and I think that it is entirely fitting that she now has a chance to spread that magic to the rest of the country.”
“That’s all well and good,” Neil interjected as brusquely as possible, “but if we can consider the matter of the new make-up of the House of Lords, how do you feel that this shellacking for the Prime Minister will affect the government’s priorities?”
“I think that-”
“-are you going to play the snake charmer? Get them to swing to your merry tune?”
Bilimoria laughed politely.
“Andrew, you know as well as I do that Crossbenchers such as myself are not in the habit of making grubby deals, we leave that to the professionals. No, my fellow Lord Senators will do what we’ve always done, which is to provide a thoughtful, measured tone of constructive criticism to ensure that the government’s legislative programme works for the country as a whole.”
“So you’re not going to utter a word of discontent?”
“Not at all - I have, as have many of my colleagues, not seen eye-to-eye with Mr Purnell on many issues, and that that isn’t going to change any time soon. We have still to deal with the outcomes from the Government’s madcap immigration cap on foreign students attending our great universities, and - as we’ve all said before - our rate of Corporation Tax makes us one of the most uncompetitive economies in Europe.”
“So, hang the poor, don’t beggar the rich?” Neil continued, “is that really what you think the public have endorsed today?”
“Of course not Andrew,” Bilimoria continued, clearly enjoying the joust, “but as you can see - the public clearly don’t think that the Prime Minister’s policies are working for the country as a whole. We need to ensure that the expertise available within the House of Lords continues to be used to the best of our ability.”
“So,” Neil concluded, “you won’t be currying favour then?”
Bilimoria gave the smallest possible smile. Neil beamed.
“Back to you, David.”
Dimbleby, visibly flagging by this point, was talking to someone off-screen. Realising he was back on air, he looked into the camera and took a moment to gather himself.
“With the result all but confirmed, we’ve been told we’ll be coming off air at six o’clock, so we’ve about twenty minutes left. James Naughtie is still at the national counting centre in Wembley, we can go to him now… Jim, we thought it would be all over bar the shouting by now, didn’t we?”
“You’re absolutely right, David,” said Naughtie, speaking very quickly and holding a cardboard coffee cup, “the West Midlands result has just been confirmed here, and while no official announcements will be forthcoming until all the results are in… well, the National Returning Officer is understood to be making calls to constitutional experts.”
“We have one here, or at least we did,” said Dimbleby, looking around.
“Vernon’s gone home,” Nick said cheerily.
“Lightweight,” chuckled Dimbleby, returning to Naughtie, “so what’s likely to happen next?”
“Nobody here seems very sure. If Ms Rowling is unable to ‘get over the line’, the provisions for a hung college kick in, but they’ve never been needed before and thus, we can’t know how they would look.”
“James Naughtie, thank you,” said Dimbleby wearily as Naughtie disappeared, “and I believe our panel has been joined by those members of the frontbench who actually go some sleep last night.”
The Deputy Leader of the Labour Party gave her freshest smile, while the Shadow Secretary of State for Business and Industry simply nodded.
“Wendy Alexander,” Dimbleby began, “what looked like a much-needed shot in the arm for Labour has become, in the last hour, a bit of a quagmire, hasn’t it?”
“I don’t agree,” Alexander said brightly, “it’s very clear Joanne will become our third president, it’s simply a matter of crossing the constitutional ‘t’s.”
“Is that a view shared by the Conservative Party, David Cameron?”
The Shadow Business Secretary grinned. “Unsurprisingly, no. I don’t want to sound like a fuddy-duddy, but the Basic Law and the constitution in general are, well, rules, and you can’t ignore them when you don’t like them.”
Alexander pounced. “Nobody is talking about ignoring the Basic Law, David, that’s simply ridiculous. You know as well as I do there Joanne has clearly won the popular vote, and there’s no other candidate who has come close to her level of support. We believe she, and Labour, will win convincingly, but -”
“But if you don’t, you want to behave like you did anyway,” Cameron smirked.
“Calm yourselves,” Dimbleby instructed as Alexander’s lip curled, “everyone has been very well-behaved all night, I’m not having you two starting to throwing the furniture around.”
“What I’m trying to make absolutely clear is that we all need to tread very carefully in the coming days,” Cameron said.
“Days? This isn’t going to take days,” scoffed Alexander.
“I must stop you there,” Dimbleby said, raising a hand, “as we are being informed that Michael Portillo is about to give a live address from the Conservative campaign headquarters in Doncaster.”
“Doncaster?” said Alexander very quietly.
“Trains…” muttered Cameron by way of explanation, though his eyes looked troubled.
“Good morning,” Michael Portillo, resplendent in a crisp light yellow shirt and a blue blazer he’d clearly just changed into, “I have just spoken to Joanne Rowling, and congratulated her on a well-fought campaign. I think we have seen the best of our country in this contest, as is right, but as candidates, she and I have, I believe, also brought out the best in one another.”
There was a pause, with only flashbulbs punctuating the silence.
“It appears, however, that my best was not good enough. The result overnight has been heartening for me, and for my party, at times. But it has not been sufficient to make me President, and nor do I have a clear mandate. For that reason, I congratulated Ms Rowling not only on her campaign, but also on her victory.”
In white-on-red, the words ‘PORTILLO CONCEDES’ appeared on a banner at the bottom of the screen.
“Responsibility for this defeat must rest with me. I am proud of my team, and grateful to all who knocked on doors for me, and I am sorry to have let you all down.”
If Portillo had been intending to then thank and praise his colleagues in the Conservative Party, he clearly forgot. The silence was deafening.
“I am aware,” he continued, “that Ms Rowling does not have the sufficient electoral votes to be made President. However, her popular vote victory is obvious, short of a mathematically-impossible upset result in the South West. Consequently, I am instructing the members of the electoral college pledged to me by yesterday’s vote to cast their ballots instead for Ms Rowling this afternoon.”
Camera shutters went into overdrive at this point, and the banner on the screen changed to ‘PORTILLO GIVES ELECTORAL VOTES TO ROWLING’.
“I also call on the other defeated candidates to join me in this gesture. To serve as Britain’s head of state would have been a great privilege, but it is one I am happy to see go to Ms Rowling, and one that I would encourage everyone to wish her well in. Thank you, and I’m afraid I will not be taking any questions.”
Portillo smiled, waved, and walked back through the door he had entered from. Back in the studio, Dimbleby looked a little confused, while Kellner, Robinson and Marr were absolutely stunned.
“Well, first things first, I suppose,” Dimbleby began, “can he do that?”
“I… think so. Yes,” Robinson said, agape.
“And it would work,” said Emily next to her giant phablet, “the numbers get Rowling above 37.”
“It might look like a fix,” said Marr.
“There’s a fine line between ‘coming together by consensus’ and ‘the establishment closing ranks’, yes…” murmured Kellner.
“I’d put fifty pounds on UKIP using exactly that line with great success in the next few years,” said Nick.
Dimbleby turned. “David? Wendy? Any comment?”
David Cameron was bright purple. Wendy spoke.
“I… I think what Michael has just done is a very noble and absolutely correct thing to do. I don’t often praise a Tory, but goodness, I might well do so if the rest of them were as selfless as that.”
Dimbleby looked at Cameron. “David? Were you and your colleagues aware of this decision?”
“No,” Cameron said, before quickly adding, “but all options had been discussed in advance of the election, and I am sure this is… this is - what we’re dealing with here, is…”
Cameron trailed off and tried to start again, but Dimbleby raised a hand again.
“We’ve just heard that a short statement from Ming Campbell’s office has praised Michael Portillo’s speech a few minutes ago, and has confirmed that Campbell is telling his own electoral college members to vote for Rowling as well. We are reaching out to constitutional experts as to whether this is in fact possible, but it looks as though it is.”
“Well,” beamed Wendy, “this is, of course, excellent.”
Cameron just stared.
“David Cameron, Wendy Alexander, thank you. We now go live to Maidstone, headquarters of UKIP’s campaign, where… yes, well, as you can see…”
William Legge, Earl of Dartmouth, was pounding the pavement as fast as he could, trying to get from his car to his office and finding three dozen journalists in the way. One of them, inevitably, got a microphone in his face.
“Will you be releasing your delegates?” the journo asked, apparently unaware of the grotesque Americanism. Legge tried to ignore him, but the press pack encircled him. Someone else repeated the question.
“Will you tell them to vote for Ms Rowling?” someone said.
“Piss off,” snapped Legge, leading the abrupt termination of the feed.
“We, er, apologise for the language there,” Dimbleby as he returned to the screen, “but it would appear we have an answer - and, indeed, a President-elect?”
“De facto, it would appear so,” Kellner nodded.
“Well, it seems everyone is trying to get this wrapped up before the breakfast shows, because I’ve just been told we are able to go live to Manchester, where Joanne Rowling - now de facto President-elect of the United Kingdom, is about to give her victory speech.”
The hall Purnell had addressed earlier was even more packed now, and the mood much more jubilant. Rowling was already making her way through the crowd to the stage, shaking hands and kissing cheeks as she went. The hall’s speaker system appeared to be playing the climactic music from Love Actually, and red balloons were released from the ceiling as the music swelled. When Rowling finally reached the podium, it took two full minutes for the crowd to quieten down.
“Thank you,” she said for the eighteenth time, “thank you, but I really should start this speech if any of you are hoping to make the school run.”
There was laughter, more hysterical than amused.
“I did not expect to begin this speech by thanking Michael Portillo. I really didn’t. I had planned to thank him, and all of the candidates, for an energetic campaign. But while I don’t owe Michael the victory we won tonight - I owe that to you, and to the millions of voters we won together yesterday - his good grace has spared me, and the UK, a potentially frustrating and publicly shambolic process that could damage us on the world stage. To him, and of course to Ming, I say thank you. As both men have always done, they’ve put country before party.”
A smattering of applause broke out, but a Labour crowd in Manchester wasn’t going to cheer for a Tory. Even one who’d given two fingers to his party on live television.
“I must also thank Paddy Ashdown, to whom I will pay tribute at length in the coming days. I look forward to working with him in the transition period, and I am sure I will seek his counsel a great deal in office. His proposals about this role - gosh, I’m not going to get used to calling it ‘my’ role - and the way we elect it, are very valid indeed, and I will make their advancement a priority of my time in office. Last night’s result shows more than ever that in an age of multi-party politics - a great thing for this country’s people - an electoral college just doesn’t work.”
The crowd were clearly split on this, but there was a broadly positive reaction.
“But I didn’t come up on stage to talk about the electoral college. I came to talk about what we can do together. We, the Labour Party. We, the British people. We, the world. I want to represent a country that knows the value of community, a nation where we talk to our neighbours, a global brand that represents fairness and charity. We have an incredible role to play as a force for good in the world. It’s my privilege to represent that, now. But it is others’ job to shape it - I have no intention of becoming a dictator, so I’m afraid the tabloids will have to save the ‘She Who Must Not Be Named’ headlines.”
More laughter, genuine this time, and the banner at the bottom of the screen finally turned to ‘ROWLING ELECTED PRESIDENT’.
“I look forward to working with James Purnell, our great Labour Prime Minister. But I will work with whoever occupies that office, as well as whoever is running Holyrood, Stormont, or the Senedd. I campaigned on a slogan of ‘Our President’. I promise you now, I will be your President. The shoes I’m about to step into are enormous, but I’ve got sixty five million pairs of feet walking with me. Thank you, thank you all so much for your hard work and your support. Thank you, to those watching at home, for your vote. I cannot wait to get started.”
The Love Actually music returned, and Rowling was joined by her family and, bizarrely, most of the cabinet. The former Labour Deputy Leader David Miliband, who Purnell had beaten in 2014 and many said would replace him one day, gave Rowling a white-knuckle embrace and flashed a charming smile to the cameras. There were shades of 1997 about the whole thing.
The man who had presented the coverage of 1997, and indeed the five general elections before that, returned to the screen. White-haired but bright-eyed, he looked ready to hang up his microphone.
“And with that,” he began, “we’re just in time to throw you back to our regular morning programming. Good morning, and thank you for joining us. And, if I may be personal for a moment,” he said, looking right and left at the panel, “thank you all for watching during my many, many years of broadcasting. It has been the most tremendously exciting experience, and I am grateful to everyone who has made it possible.”
Dimbleby paused for half a moment, and looked straight down the lens.
“Goodbye.”
The credits began to roll, and David visibly began to take off his tie. A graphic of a grinning Rowling faded in, over the top of a zooming out shot that showed everyone in the studio queueing up to shake Dimbleby’s hand.
As the BBC One emblem replaced the studio footage, the usual soothing voiceover emerged from the airwaves.
“Our thanks to David for his many years of service. With the election wrapped up in the nick of time, it’s now over to Elizabeth and Philip for ‘Breakfast at Balmoral’.”
As footage of the castle grounds faded into view, the former national anthem began to play.
Sulemain
Banned
"Breakfast at Balmoral"???
I don't know if I want to cry, be sick, or applaud. Cracking stuff as usual, both of you.
I must admit that the "taking the piss out of the Ameripols" got a bit thick in this, but it didn't detract from the writing one bit. You've created a very...
British Republic.
I don't know if I want to cry, be sick, or applaud. Cracking stuff as usual, both of you.
I must admit that the "taking the piss out of the Ameripols" got a bit thick in this, but it didn't detract from the writing one bit. You've created a very...
British Republic.
'Breakfast at Balmoral'
> costello over
> republic = very yes
...It's safe to say that wasn't the twist I was expecting (which is kind of the point of a twist, I suppose...). That was a nice touch with Portillo and Ming instructing their electors to vote for Rowling - I'm not sure it's the likeliest outcome in the world, but it makes for a satisfying narrative conclusion and the oft-discussed problems of the Portillo campaign and a Conservative Party in opposition give it the plausibility it requires.
Thank you again for a wonderful little work (and something of a balm to those of us who still wince when remembering the events of last May OTL).
> costello over
> republic = very yes
...It's safe to say that wasn't the twist I was expecting (which is kind of the point of a twist, I suppose...). That was a nice touch with Portillo and Ming instructing their electors to vote for Rowling - I'm not sure it's the likeliest outcome in the world, but it makes for a satisfying narrative conclusion and the oft-discussed problems of the Portillo campaign and a Conservative Party in opposition give it the plausibility it requires.
Thank you again for a wonderful little work (and something of a balm to those of us who still wince when remembering the events of last May OTL).
