A Fishy Tale is the title of a short sketch I have written. inspired by recent events. You might like to compare it with my two previous forays into this genre. Carry on Prime Minister and Och Aye! First Minister.
Any comments would be welcome.
A FISHY TALE
Prime Minister [Sid James]: Cor blimey! There’s something fishy in the air today. I can smell it.
PM’s partner [Babs W]: Yeah! And after all we spent on the flat, you’d think they’d have sorted that out.
Civil servant [Terry Scott]: I regret, Prime Minister, that there are some who think the way you did that was fishy.
The Foreign Secretary [Charles Hawtry] rushes in. FS: Oh no! Prime Minister, it’s the French – they’ve sent a fleet to the Channel Islands.
PM: The Frogs? Now they are a fishy lot. Even got a president called Monsieur Mackerel. Are they trying to invade the islands?
FS: No Prime Minister. Just the waters around them. They want all our fish.
PM’s partner: Cor blimey! We’ll ’ave nothing to ’ave with our chips.
PM: Don’t you worry, love. I’ll put a stop to that. We’ll send a gunboat!
Civil Servant: Do you think that’s wise, Prime Minister? Aren’t we in danger of causing an international incident?
PM: I hope so! Think what that did for all my predecessors. Putting the wind up Jonny Wog always goes down well with the voters. [Points to portraits of previous Prime Ministers, some in military or naval uniform].
Civil servant [aside]: I hope that’s all that goes down.
[Back in Downing Street]
Foreign Secretary: Oh dear! We’ve had a secret communication from Washington. The Yanks don’t want us to go to war with France. It might jeopardise our trade deal with them.
PM: Cheeky buggers! What’s it got to do with them? Never mind – I’ll call the President. He’ll sort it out. Now, I’m sure I’ve got his number in me phone somewhere. Where’s me phone?
PM’s partner: Oh, sorry. The dog was playing with it. Here it is.
PM: I can’t find the number now! Ah – here it is, Hello! Hello? Donald? Get me Donald, will you. What? This is Boris – the Prime Minister of England.
Civil Servant: Sir! This isn’t England it’s the United Kingdom of Great…
PM: Oh shut up. I can’t be bothered going through all that stuff. As if anyone cares about the Scots and all that lot. Where was I?
Civil servant: Please listen – Donald Trump is no longer President. He lost the election.
PM: He didn’t. I heard that was all fake news. What? Well if he’s not, then who is? Not that darkie again? Cor blimey – what? Oh, that’s all right. Hello! Ah, good. You’ve put me through to the president. What? All right. Anything you say, of course. Right lads. Get hold of that ship and tell them to get back here sharpish. If there’s any trouble with France the trade deal’s dead in the water.
Foreign secretary: Let’s hope nothing else is dead in the water either. Where IS that ship anyway? It should be there by now.
Civil servant: I can’t get hold of them and we can’t track them. Their equipment doesn’t seem to be turned on.
PM [to partner]: You should’ve gone with ’em. You can turn anyone’s equipment on.
[On a ship at sea somewhere]
Lieutenant [Leslie Philips]: I say, it’s a bit hard to see in this rain and all the spray blowing over us. Any idea where we are?
Chief Petty Officer [John Pertwee]: Not sure sir, but we’ve been going a long time, must reach somewhere soon.
[Shouting coming from the water, then cries of “Man in the water” from sailors]
Lieutenant: I say, do you think someone’s fallen in?
CPO: They never do when I order them to. Hang on! Strewth! There is someone down there. Chuck ’em a line, someone!
[Much shouting. A wet figure emerges, untangling itself from a rope]
Wet figure: Thanks lads! Ay thought Ay was in for a long swim.
CPO: Stone me! It’s Arlene Foster, the former leader of the Democratic Unionist Party and First Minister of the Northern Ireland Assembly.
Lieutenant: She always was going overboard.
Arlene [Kenneth Connor in drag]: Ay’m a DUP – ex member. That makes me a DUPE! My lads decided Ay was a liability and had to go.
CPO: Whatever next? We’ve been carrying this liability for years and we can’t get rid of him. Like another I could…
Lieutenant: Where are we?
Arlene: In the entrance to Belfast Harbour, where did you think?
Lieutenant: Oh, crikey! I thought we were near the Channel Islands. Didn’t we go left after Cornwall?
CPO: It was hard to tell in this weather.
Arlene: Did you not have any navigational equipment?
Lieutenant: Oh, yes! But, you know, all that technical stuff’s a bit complicated and we haven’t got the hang of it yet. I suppose we’d better turn round and start looking for Jersey. I say! Left hand down over there!
[Ship hits harbour wall with loud crash followed by a buzz.]
CPO: Perhaps we should’ve gone right hand up instead. What’s that buzzing?
Lieutenant: Oh, I say – that navigational whatnot has turned itself on. Let’s see if it’ll get us to the Channel Islands. Anyone got the postcode? Have a fiddle with that gadget will you?
Arlene: Want me to do that? Ay’m good at fiddling. That why they chucked me out.
[Back in Downing Street.]
PM: Can’t anyone do anything to stop this? I’ve had another ultimatum from Monsieur Mackerel. He’s threatening us with mines if we don’t back off.
Foreign Secretary: Mines? How old-fashioned. We shut all our down years ago.
PM: Not those sort of mines, stupid! He means he’ll start a war and I promised that Yankee fellow we wouldn’t be ’aving one.
Civil servant: Good news, Prime Minister. We’ve got the latest position for that ship.
PM’s partner: Ooh! What is it? We could do with trying a new position, eh?
Civil servant: The ship’s somewhere in Portsmouth Harbour. They must have got our message and returned to base.
PM: Wow! We nearly had an international incident. Good job I stepped in and used all my diplomatic skills again.
All the others: Yes Prime Minister!
Don’t forget the first two books in my Accounting for Murder series are still free on Kindle as e-books until Wednesday 12th May