Drowning Street - (Ass Mess): There comes a time in every Prime Monster's life when he, possibly she, realises the game's up and the biggest poker bluff of modern history is about to be called in a Rite of Spring reawakening that makes a biblical Judgement Day seem like a court hearing over an unpaid speeding ticket.
And now a new rock opera Spring Reawakening tells the musical version of how UK Prime Mobster suddenly woke up after ten years of monomaniacal nepotism and realised he had only weeks, maybe days before the cops fetched him for his final date with destiny at HMP Belmarsh and at Traitor's Gate.
The show's next move will be to the US after a sell-out success in London starring Tony Blair, Gordon Brown and a posse of wannabe somebody Tory implants hired by Margaret Thatcher in the days when Ronald Reagan could still get away with just about concealing that he was totally, utterly nuts. Certifiable. Bonkers. Irreversibly brain-damaged in a way that no previous or subsequent politician has ever managed to get away with.
The entire cast now faces the final curtain as the inevitable Machine Infernale of global realpolitik shifts up a gear in a spot of fascist cleansing overdue since the early 1930s rise of Adolf Hitler.
As he flies in to Washington DC in the next few hours for his swansong aria Blair will still attempt to hog the limelight with a solo virtuoso performance similar to that of the late UK comic Eric Morcambe, partner of George Bush's Ernie Wise.
But there's been little 'Bring Me Sunshine' in this particular Morcambe and Wise extravaganza during the last seven years, just a few well rehearsed lines, faltering steps and one hell of a lot of bravado.
9/11 now nods for the pair as spooks, cops and judges who always knew but didn't publicly prove while the options remained limited.
The show is well and truly over.