How disappointing

[therealpm]

I did hope that my comments at last week's dinner might have encouraged our frontbench to be slightly better at dissecting Osborne's populist shambles of a budget (endured in the midst of some very dubious company). It is therefore somewhat disappointing to note that the Tories were savaged more effectively by their own leadership than by ours, a situation likely to become only more frequent with Mr Miliband's lamentable departure.

Comments

[therealpm]

*Given that his lower half has gone from scalding to freezing in the space of half a second, Peter considers his response to Jemima of "No TV for a week" through gritted teeth to be really quite measured and calm. Nevertheless, the children are spooked enough to run upstairs and (by the sound of it) start tidying their rooms, which makes him feel a little guilty.*

Fine. Do you have a towel?

[bamfbercow]

*John summons a towel from the airing cupboard and hands it to Peter. He sets about tidying up and cleaning the carpet as Peter dries himself off.*

[therealpm]

*Feeling a tad embarrassed about needing to pat himself dry with a towel and still not in the best of moods, Peter gets up to leave.*

[bamfbercow]

*John spots Peter about to leave.*

We've still got a good bottle of red left over from Christmas if you'd like to stay for a bit longer?

[therealpm]

*Peter rubs his ear- it still aches from being yanked.

On the one hand, a dry pair of trousers would be nice. On the other, after this evening he feels entitled to extract as much good wine from John as possible.

He sulks back to the sofa and sits on the dry end.*

Put another log on the fire, it's still cold in here.

[bamfbercow]

*John does as Peter says, pocking the fire to make sure it is blazing well before he fetches the nice wine. He pours out two glasses and is about to take a seat on the other (still damp) end of the sofa when he recalls the earlier incident. John casts a quick drying charm on the seat and sits down - it may not be perfectly dry, but it's a little better at least.*

Another by-election then. Is it presumptuous of me to assume that The Machine is already getting excited about the prospect of electioneering again?

[therealpm]

*Peter rolls his eyes*

The seat hasn't elected a Tory for well over a century and has been held by Labour since 1935. Somehow I doubt the PPC needs much help.

[bamfbercow]

Nevertheless, surely it's a good opportunity to make sure everything is in working order come 2015. You can't honestly tell me that preparations for the general election haven't started yet.

*John takes a sip from his wine. He makes a mental note to keep the bottle label and try and track down another one of these in the near future.*

[therealpm]

And why would you be interested?

*Peter glances at John sidelong over his glass.*

I thought you were entirely impartial.

[bamfbercow]

It is entirely possible for one to not be backing a specific horse and yet still be able to enjoy watching the race.

If you don't want to talk about politics then feel free to bring a new topic of conversation into the discussion.

[therealpm]

*Peter sniffs disdainfully and takes a rather long sip.*

Get off the fence before people mistake you for a Lib Dem.

[bamfbercow]

*John has to laugh at that.*

I am not sitting on the fence! I don't know why you insist on insinuating that by being consistent in dutifully adhering to the requirements of my post I am somehow acting out a betrayal. It is rather childish, Peter.

[therealpm]

*He puts on an exaggerated pout.*

But we sent our best and brightest to sway you towards a proper political party! How could you resist our Leader's boundless charm and charisma?

[bamfbercow]

I am not going to dignify that question with a substantive response.

Besides which, you were the one who explained to the then Prime Minister that there are people in the world to whom there are more important things than party politics. Pretending you do not understand the sentiment for comic effect is wearing thinner each time you attempt it.

[therealpm]

*He huffs.*

And you have no reason to be ill-humoured tonight as you have neither suffered an assault on your ears, nor been subjected to rather rapid changes in temperature.

[bamfbercow]

Perhaps next time you spill a scalding beverage over your lap in my presence I'll leave it soak through your clothes and burn you if my attempts at helping were so woefully inadequate, misplaced and irritating.

Anyway, I am not "ill-humoured" this evening. In case I haven't made myself clear, I am having quite an enjoyable time verbally sparring and drinking with you after consuming a quite delicious meal. It would be pretentious of me to irascible under the current circumstances.

[therealpm]

Perhaps next time you could instruct your children to leave my ears alone.

Indeed. You have never been known to be pretentious. Not once.

*He holds out his glass for John to refill.*

[bamfbercow]

*John refills Peter's glass as he replies.*

Is that why you threw your drink about? I thought it was something serious.

And with regard to the aspersions you are casting on my character, I think it is only fair to recognise that I have humbled quite considerably since my formative years. Not that you would have any experience of being humbled, of course...

[therealpm]

...you believed I had some sort of serious ailment that caused me to fling my drink about, say a stroke or a heart attack, and your response was to offer me wine?

*Peter looks mildly horrified.*

Good grief, Bercow.

*He takes a big sip of his drink.*

I shall have to be extra careful never to need medical assistance in your vicinity. You might attempt blood-letting or something similarly foolish.

[bamfbercow]

If the offer of wine offends you so, then you're more than welcome to no longer drink any.

*John refills his own glass.*

[therealpm]

Horrified, John, not offended.

*He glances across to the stairway. The children are hiding behind the bannisters, looking worried.*

[bamfbercow]

*John follows Peter's line of sight.*

They should probably go to bed soon - Sally's due home at any moment and despite it being a school holiday I doubt she'd be pleased if they were still awake upon her return...

Would you care to say goodnight to them or shall I go and usher them into bed right away?

[therealpm]

*Peter sighs. He should probably make sure he doesn't become Jemima's personal bogeyman, though doing so would probably secure the safety of his ears. He sets his glass down, stretches a little to shake off the cramp, then heads towards the stairs. He's barely walked a few paces before Jemima screeches 'Werewolf!' and runs away to her room.

'Bugger'*

[bamfbercow]

*John watches, horrified, as his daughter rushes off.*

Jemima!

*John stands up, quickly apologises to Peter and heads off to Jemima's room to try and talk to her.*

[therealpm]

*He straightens his spine and is careful to look confused and a little disappointed- Freddie and Oliver are still watching from the stairs.*

Any preferences for a bedtime story? I know Oliver will want something with dinosaurs....