Written by Dogooder Dave
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Topics: eyes, Dreams

Saturday, 9 September 2006

image for Blair & Brown The New Charles & Di
Stately as a galleon

In a week that the fairytale dreams of the nation crumbled before tear moistened eyes, we look back with fondness on this love that dare not speak its name.

Pictured in happier times, flushed with young love, a coupling vested with hopes and aspirations for the many, so few of us could have thought such dark days lay ahead.

Rumours of Tony and Gordy's fractious relationship have been whispered in the passages of power for some time. Raised voices reverberating around Number 10, an aide spotting David Blunkett slipping tissues under Tony's door and scuffed paintwork, said to have been caused by Gordy tossing himself down the stairs of power, had all been dismissed as idle gossip.

Who can forget that glorious day in 1997 as the happy couple came together. Things can only get better we sang in unison, a joyous John Prescott swaying to the beat, all eyes to a future full of promise. Downing Street ringing with peals of joy and prudence dancing in the street.

The early days of the marriage, first sealed on the back of a menu during a romantic dinner for two, thrilled onlookers. Tony and Gordy dispensing with stuffy traditions, rescinding control of interest rates to the Bank of England and cabinet meetings with a new dress code of no jackets required. Cool Britannia indeed being the order of the day but their faces flush with tingling excitement The constant swinging of the connecting door between the back passages of Numbers 10 and 11 testimony to their ardour.

Where did it all go wrong ? Gordy's rumoured private chats with Martin Bashir following the comings and goings of Peter Mandelson, "There were three of us in this triumvirate and it was a bit crowded". Peter's slipping out the back for European exotica only to be replaced by the husky tones of Alastair Campbell widening the rift. Tony secretly caught sunning himself on Cliff Richard's fo'csle and Gordy snapped wistfully alone afront the Taj Mahal.

The couple's respective camps with weapon's now fully drawn, Charles Clark condemning Gordy for having far too big a smile on his petulant lips and alluding to mental instability. Where will it all end, perhaps always the bridesmaid and never the groom, Gordy destined forever, to be no more than the Prime Minister of People's Hearts ?

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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