HELLO, Gove here, taking bookings for hook-ups. But when I’m not enjoying single life I like to lurk in the shadows and betray. This is how to pick your moment.
Wait until your victim is feeling good
A man on the ground won’t even notice your blade going in. And that’s no fun. Allow your good, trusted friend who confides so much in you to recover, to rebuild, to believe he’s turned a corner and is going to beat the odds and triumph. Then strike.
Form an orderly queue
One act of perfidy is a gnat’s bite, especially if your target is well used to barbs from former colleagues, underlings and indeed mistresses. Let’s face it, there’s more than one Judas in these disciples! Get a whole group together, like Brutus with Caesar, and make a backstabbing party of it. Catering can supply canapes.
Rehearse your reasons
It’s always good form to have reasons when slaughtering a valued friend like a hog. Line up a few and trot them out as your duplicity dawns in his little piggy eyes: ‘It’s for the good of the party’ or ‘You’ll be happier back at the Daily Telegraph’. Untrue of course. Betrayal is its own reward.
Deny you’ve done it
A good traitor has plenty of time for his targets. He befriends them and learns from them before killing them, and this is a little tip I picked up from my next victim: just deny it. Even with your hand on the hilt of the knife in his back, be outraged. Be as angry as he is about these turncoats. It only adds to the savour.
Remember, the process of making a friend, becoming an ally, putting that minor blip in 2016 behind you and becoming a trusted confidante in the heart of government takes time. So make sure you pause, mid-double-cross, to relish every delicious moment as the blond goon goes down, mouth open and closing like a fish, reaching out to you. Mmm.
Make sure he’s dead
It’s so easy to get carried away with the sheer thrill of bloodletting. That was my mistake last time and I’ve paid for it since. So, once your close personal friend is down, his back bristling with daggers, go over and make sure he’s dead. Whisper what an honour it is to make the killing strike. Then, if you’re anything like me, you’ll fancy a shag.