High society by Ben Elton

said, ‘Corkie’s happy to do her duty by the record company.’ Corkie, that was her name. She’s stood there, all blond hair and jewels in her belly button and her boyfriend is offering her up for my delectation like a fookin’ canape. Is it any wonder that I’m all screwed up in me ‘ead? ‘Well, that was it. I do have some fookin’ sense of decorum, you know. I had a jug of vodka and orange in me ‘and and I just whacked the bastard round the head with it. Crack! Bosh. Thank you very much and goodnight. It didn’t break properly, as it goes, just at the handle, in fact, but it made a hell of a clunk and he went down like the sad immoral pimping bastard that he was.
    ‘Want to know what the other A and R people said?’
    The assembled recoverers most certainly did. This was one story worth missing work for.
    They said, ‘It’s OK, it’s OK. We can sort this out…‘ Not to him, mind, not to the bloke laid out on the floor in a puddle of vodka and orange, but to me: ‘We’ll get him out and get him a doctor. It was an accident. It’s OK, it’ll be OK.’ That was what they said. I’d just assaulted their colleague but it’s me that they’re worrying about. It’s me they’re trying to protect. And why wouldn’t they? I’ve got a twenty-seven-arena tour plus six stadiums, six stadiums, starting in a fortnight and there was no way I was going to make those dates if I was remanded without bail for GBH.’

HOUSE OF COMMONS TERRACE
    S urely, Barry, you’re not suggesting that the person who threatened your wife was a police officer?’ Peter Paget put the drinks down on the table. He had decided on a large gin and tonic, while as usual the Commander drank only water.
    ‘Yes, I think it was. I’ve been expecting some form of retaliation and it’s beginning.’
    ‘But why? We’re trying to make the police’s life easier, free up their time, let them get on with their proper job.’
    ‘Peter, please don’t be so naive. We both know that there are plenty of bent coppers around. Bent coppers get paid in bent money and most of the bent money in this country is generated by the drugs trade and associated industries.’
    ‘But phoning up and making threats — ’
    ‘I don’t know it was a policeman. I merely suspect it was. But quite frankly it could be anyone. There are literally tens, possibly hundreds of thousands of people in London alone, violent people; who’ll be ruined if we manage to get even a few drugs legalized, from the thugs at the school gates to the mega coke importer sitting on his yacht at Cannes. The fact that I received the threats even though you are by far the more prominent one in our little crusade makes me think that they have a specific agenda.’
    ‘Police corruption?’
    ‘Exactly. The caller mentioned corruption specifically, and there’s no doubt that the effect of the failure of drug policy on the police morale is a powerful part of our argument. I want to show that the law is actually a corrupting influence on the force. Officers are helpless to enforce it and some end up breaking it instead. We’re rocking a lot of boats here.’
    ‘Yes, but it’s absolutely bloody obvious that we aren’t going to get what we want anyway. They’ll never legalize drugs in this country. Just look at the editorials; they’re calling me a crack pusher and you PC Pothead.’
    ‘The fact that you’ve even managed to get the issue discussed is bad enough for these people. We’re pissing into their tent, Peter.’
    The MP smiled ruefully. ‘I should’ve gone for fox hunting.’
    ‘Look, it was probably a hoax, and even if it wasn’t it was directed at me, not you. I’m just saying you should be careful, that’s all. Think about your life a bit, take stock. Is there anything that makes you personally vulnerable?’
    ‘Of course there isn’t.’
    Across the table Samantha toyed with a glass of Chardonnay, thrilled to be attending such an important meeting.

THE GROUCHO