We’ve got a new Prime Minister and Elaine Malcolmson has some things to say.
Dear Theresa May,
My warmest congratulations to you on your new position. I expect you are surrounded by lots of balloons and cards, or as some call them, Tory MPs.
You must be over the moon. Although, maybe you’re not. Getting a job because you were the only applicant isn’t really something to celebrate.
I suppose it’s the opposite of being headhunted, which would be, I don’t know, arse liberation? You’ve definitely liberated a few arses this week.
Being the only one in the running though, it can’t feel very rewarding to have won. I mean, I remember winning a medal at primary school sports day only because everyone else was off with mumps.
I didn’t feel like a winner at all, partly because I was then sent to stay at my friend’s house to get mumps.
Anyway, ignore me, congratulations. It seems to be going well so far. Most people keep their heads down for the first few weeks in a new post. They definitely wouldn’t go and do anything wild like putting SpongeBob SquarePants in charge of international relations! Hahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! What a jape. Not you though, eh? Hit the ground running and all that.
I’m sure everyone is delighted to have you as the boss. I hope they’re not too disappointed about the badly put-together cabinet; nobody wants a cabinet that leans to the right and has a useless knob.
I must say I was surprised at the composition of your team. I thought you were all about equality and yet the vast majority of the cabinet are bawbags. Perhaps non-bawbag is not a protected characteristic.
I digress; I know you will be worried about this Article 50 nonsense. Who wants to hand in their notice to Europe? Not any of your colleagues anyway. Here’s a little tip: when I want to leave somewhere really quickly I pretend to take an important phone call, works every time.
You could be like, “Jeees, so sorry Europe, gotta go, must take this, it’s China. Skype me!” Oh and you don’t want to have to go back for anything you’ve forgotten, very embarrassing. So don’t leave anything important behind, like a handbag, an umbrella, or you know, Scotland.
You’ll be great at this. So kind of David to help you out by making a right tit of himself before he left. You can’t look any worse than him. I hope he has left No 10 tidy and there’s not too much to take down: pictures, ornaments, house prices, hate crimes, homelessness, suicide.
I must go, I can hear my pension shrinking.
Elaine Malcolmson is a comedian, writer and science communicator. Raised in Northern Ireland, lived in Wales, now resides in Glasgow – bewildering brogue.