Gordon Brown was reportedly seen with tears in his good eye when the press accidentally found out that he was originally christened Brenda.
"Daddy wasn't quite sure what I was because he hadn't been to Specsavers and mother was under the weather (not the curate as some suspected) after a long hard labour and consequently missed the ceremony," he said to the daily press briefing.
He ignored the, "I'm not surprised she had a hard time with a head the size of yours," comment from the ranks.
He also stated that Robert Mugabbe definitely did not offer to build him his very own mud hut (in lion country) because of the time he was spending in Africa when he should have been hard at work dreaming up more sneaky ways to tax the gullible British public. Though he might take up his offer of safari holiday in exchange for a few depleted uranium shells and the promise he wouldn't use them against the white farmers.
As for the ancient Westminster gurning competition to celebrate the dissolution of parliament he thought it unfair to compete knowing he'd win pant's down even if Mandy did compete.
He also said that Camerons promise to have socialism officially designated a disease of the mind after he won the election to be very unkind and he would fight the bill tooth and claw.
"Would this be from the back benches," a wizened servile ginger haired creature from the BBC asked rather meekly and was almost given the finger as Brown fought to retain his composure and settle for a vigorous scratching in the nether regions as he ignored the question.
"Is there any truth in the rumour you have offered your good friend Tony a job in the cabinet in exchange for his support?" a comely young female asked.
The face twisted and the colour changed from the normal sickly pallid to an alarming shade of grey as the numerous flabby chins wobbled angrily. "Of course not because he's not an elected representative of the people," he answered then quickly realised his mistake.
"You could always ennoble him," came the instant reply, bringing a ripple of laughter from the ranks of the press.
"What would you do if the ummentionable happened and you were forced to joint the ranks of the unemployed?" a bleary eyed hack chuckled malevolently.
The one question he hoped none would dare to ask hung in the air like a heavily pregnant duck about to land on a cabinet ministers beautifully manicured lawn paid for out of the bottomless public purse. He offered his own rather sad version of a sweet smile and waited for the next question.
"Any idea what the unemployment benefit is for a former prime minister?" a scruffy looking individual asked with a leering grin.
"I'm pleased to see that some of you still have a sense of humour," he answered forcing the now familiar unnatural smile onto his careworn features, then with a gleam in his good eye, "about the same as for an out of work hack journalist."