Mr. Labour Man: ‘Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
(The Starmer does not respond.)
Mr. Labour Man: ‘Ello, Miss?
Starmer: What do you mean “miss”?
Mr. Labour Man: (pause)I’m sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!
Starmer: We’re closin’ for lunch.
Mr. Labour Man: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this Party what I’ve been in all my life.
Starmer: Oh yes, the, uh, the New Party…What’s,uh…What’s wrong with it?
Mr. Labour Man: I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it, my lad. It’s dead, that’s what’s wrong with it!
Starmer: No, no, ‘e’s uh,…it’s resting.
Mr. Labour Man: Look, matey, I know a dead Party when I see one, and I’m looking at one right now.
Starmer: No no it’s not dead, it’s restin’! Remarkable innit, the New Party, idn’it, ay? Beautiful look!
Mr. Labour Man: The look don’t enter into it. It’s stone dead.
Starmer: Nononono, no, no! it’s resting!
Labour Man: It’s not restin’. It’s nailed down in bureaucracy.
Starmer: Well, o’course it was nailed down! If I hadn’t nailed that Party down, it would have nuzzled up to those policies, bent ’em apart with its cheek, and VOOM! Feeweeweewee!
Mr. Labour Man: “VOOM”?!? Mate, this Party wouldn’t “voom” if you put four million volts through it! It’s bleedin’ demised!
Starmer: No no! It’s pining!
Mr. Labour Man: It’s not pinin’! ‘It’s passed on! This Party is no more! It has ceased to be! ‘It’s expired and gone to meet its maker! Bereft of life, it rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed ‘it, it’d be pushing up the daisies! Its metabolic processes are now ‘istory! It’s off the branches! It’s kicked the bucket, it’s shuffled off its mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisible!! THIS IS AN EX-PARTY!!