THE chance that the prime minister will end up in bed with the last-but-one prime minister after a night of drunken commiseration grows by the hour.
While Keir Starmer has fended off the threat of being forced out for the next 24 hours by the diversionary tactic of saying ‘no’, most commentators agree he is still destined to be the UK’s second shortest-serving leader.
So when that day comes, rejected by his party and the public, who could he find solace with except the UK’s shortest-serving leader? Who, being unemployed, will readily meet for cocktails as early as 6pm?
As the two throw back dirty martinis while bemoaning traitorous bastards, they will certainly find common ground. In being outcasts they will find attraction. Hopelessly wrecked in the wreckage of their careers, they will start snogging.
Then? They will act with the decisiveness out of office they should have had in Downing Street and order a cab. In the palatial home of a donor they kept keys for, Starmer and Truss will fall breathlessly into bed.
She will strip away fiscal restraints and stimulate unprecedented growth. He will show her what being shafted by the deep state really means. Their passion will be as epochal as their premierships were not.
Finally, in the cool hours of dawn, they will cease their rutting and lying in each others arms birth a new political project. A new party challenging the two-state hegemony built on grudges and denial of failure.
And this is why Starmer must remain prime minister. Because this unholy mutant hybrid of both party’s worst failures must never be born.
