April Prince of Darkness Special

April Prince of Darkness Special

Peter Mandelson enters his palatial home, wearing football kit. In that giveaway to all real players, everything is just too new, pristine, and identifies him as a fraud.

MANDY: Terry...TERRY...TERRY!!! Really, Terry, where are you?

Enter Terry. He is wearing shorts and flip flops, and is polishing a glass A cigarette dangles from his lips.

MANDY: [Pointing to the cigarette] Really, Terry. What did I say about passive smoking, and my body being a temple?

TERRY: [Coughs] Oh, yeah. [He drops the cigarette into the glass and puts the glass on the coffee table] where've you been, boss?

MANDY: I, Terry, have been playing in the midweek Westminster five-a-side league.

TERRY: Oh.

MANDY: And, Terry, how can you enjoy this football thing? I'm covered in bruises. Some thug, I'm sure he's about to defect to UKIP, tripped me over and I've skinned my knee...look...

TERRY: Where?

MANDY: Here...

TERRY: [Peering closer, just millimetres away] Nope, not seeing it...

MANDY: Really, Terry. Well, I won't be doing that again.

TERRY: What I don't get, boss, is what possessed you to do it in the first place. You've had some daft ideas over the years, but...

MANDY: It was Ed, he's not connecting with the ordinary folk...

TERRY: Ordinary?

MANDY: Yes, you know. The man in the street, White van. Rolled up tabloid in his back pocket. Rolling his own. Supping a pint chewing the prok scratchings over the latest events in the madcap world of the premiership football cup...

TERRY: Boss...

MANDY: What?

TERRY: Forget it, boss.

MANDY: Forget it? Whyever...

TERRY: Because, boss, you're coming across as a prize numpty trying to be something, plainly, you 'aint...

MANDY: But...Terry...[His bottom lip starts to curl, and his eyes are visibly welling up]...I've bought shorts and socks and the whole uniform...

TERRY: Kit.

MANDY: Eh?

TERRY: Kit. Not uniform. Kit. See? You can't pull the wool...

MANDY: And I've been practising my dressing room banter...

TERRY: Changing room...

MANDY: What? Where?

TERRY: It's changing room. Dressing room, theatre, changing room, sport facility...

MANDY: Well, if you're going to split hairs, I'm off to watch Norwich United on the...

TERRY: City.

MANDY: City?

TERRY: City...

MANDY: With Delia and Stephen (National Treasure) Fry, and...

TERRY: City.

MANDY: [Throws down the football he had under his arm] Why must you spoil everything, Terry, I hate you!

Mandelson, Prince of Darkness, storms off upstairs, crying profusely.

TERRY: [Singing] Don't know who you are, don't know who you are, new labour project, you don't know who you are...