A vision

Leaving Mrs QO watching Corrie downstairs, I take you now on an out-of-body journey to Observe the deliberations of the interested parties in our current political hiatus.

David Cameron's office
David Cameron: You did what? You offered them a referendum on alternative voting?
William Hague: Dave. Be calm. It wouldn't make much odds, but you know they've got their knitted underwear in a twist over it. Cheap at the price.
DC: William. 'Dave' is for the voters. We're behind closed doors.
WH: Sorry, sir.
DC: That's better. Anyway, I thought they wanted AV+?
WH: Depends on which of 'em you ask. Half of 'em don't know the difference between AV, AV+ and STV.

A moment's silence.

DC: William. Exactly what is the difference? I mean, I thought I knew, but perhaps you could enlighten me?
WH: 'Ere. Have a look at the Griadian.
DC: I beg your pardon?
WH: Don't worry, you don't have to touch it. I'll 'old it up for you.

















DC: And this tells me?
WH: No worries, is what it tells you. OK, we don't get a majority, but then... well, David, not to put too fine a point on it, if you didn't manage to get a majority in that election, we'd better forget the idea. Coalition will be a fact of life, and the sooner we can get the LibDems on board and get 'em house-trained, teach them a few facts of life, the better. Any road, think on. They all read the Gridiron and the numpties will see this. Before you know what's 'appened, they'll get all bushy-tailed, come back to us, say 'we see your AV and we raise you STV'.
DC: But wouldn't that be worse for us?
WH: Ah. Depends on which version of STV you're talking about. I reckon the Gordian's on about multiple-winner STV. It's entirely different if what you mean is the single-winner, instant run-off version. We should do even better under that, so we can say 'yes, of course, anything for a stable Government for the good of the country', and then shove that version in. They won't notice, as they'll be too busy hugging trees. Job done.
DC: But what if they get into bed with Labour, now that Pa Broon's gone?
WH: Aye, 'appen. They might be that daft, you know what they're like. In which case, we play the long game, wait for the Government of All Those Who Didn't Win to fall apart, pick up the pieces and listen to the cheers of a grateful and slightly wiser country.
DC: You know... William, you seem well on top of this. Carry on, old boy.
WH: Yes, Prime Minister.

A dungeon which doesn't officially exist below
Number 10
Lord Mandelmort: Balls!
Ed Balls: My lord?
LM: Ah, Edward. Actually, I was just making a comment. But you've saved me the trouble of sending for you. We have an... interesting... situation on our hands.
EB: My lord?
LM: Yes. I didn't think the... Others... would be so inventive as to offer AV. Our little friends may yet fall into the abyss.
EB: Even after we sacrificed Our Great Leader?

A moment's silence

EB: My lord... I apologise. I meant, of course, Our Great Official Leader.
LM: Edward... you have many things to learn. One of them, I regret to say, is that you will not be Our Next Great Official Leader. You are too much Brown's man. But you must play the long game, as I have these last five centuries. Things are falling into place, despite this last - and I must admit, startlingly intelligent, gambit by the Others. But they will fall either way. If they manage to cobble together an agreement, they will fall soon after. Having engineered the toxic mortgage situation - you will recall I have some expertise in mortgages - and the subsequent banking collapse, we are now well poised to exploit the inevitable inability of the Others - with or without our little friends - to deal with the economic crisis without condemning themselves to electoral oblivion for generations.
EB: But what if... our little friends... come to us?
LM: Then we win again. Such a coalition would have to rely on the Picts from north of the Wall. They're still puzzling out the implications of the invention of steam. Given that they have the political subtlety of a root vegetable, the coalition would last no more than three or four months, and would then fall apart in the bitterest acrimony. We would have to go back to the country, and the Others would take power. We would, naturally, blame the Picts and our little friends, sit back, and let the disaster unfold. We would then be well placed to rise from the ashes, much as we did after dear Mr Major finally ran out of Margaret's Elixir.
EB: And... my place, my lord?
LM: Is assured, Edward. We will have to let David 'I like Bananas' face the public for a while. He is no threat, but he will not survive, even with his brother's support.
EB: I see, my lord. But what about... Harriet? She is ambitious.
LM: Ah, yes. Dear, dear, Harriet. She has worked so hard, and indeed we have allowed her to rise to a certain position, chiefly to absorb some of the scorn and disdain that would otherwise have been Gordon's. But as Official Leader? Let us not be silly. Have no fear, Edward. Wait. Be patient, and learn. Watch. And be ready when the time comes.
EB: My lord, I will.
LM: And now... leave me. I wish to contemplate the darkness.
EB: Yes, Great Leader.

Liberal-Democrat HQ
Nick Clegg: Well, now what do we do? They're falling over themselves to give us some bits and pieces... but who do we go with? Who can we trust?
Charles Kennedy: Awwww... it's tricky. Ye canna trust any of them. What say we nip down the pub and discuss it there?
Vince Cable: No. It's all about the economy, stupid. Who can we work with to solve the crisis? Labour? They got us here. It has to be the Tories, much as I dislike the idea.
Paddy Ashdown: I don't know. When you have enemies all around, that's the time to dig in, make sure of your defensive lines, re-define your mission objectives, lock and load...

A moment's silence.

Ming Campbell: I'm sure we could work to some extent with the SNP. Not, of course, to any great extent, but perhaps with some compromises we could do something.
Simon Hughes: The important thing is the British people.
All: Absolutely.

A moment's silence.

NC: So... who do we go with? Who can we trust?

Repeat to fade...

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Any and all resemblance to any politicians alive, dead-but-walking or 'prefer not to say' is entirely the fault of my diseased imagination. And yours, of course.