KIRKCALDY – Scotland – Where’s Gordon Brown? What’s he doing, what’s he thinking about all of this stuff happening now? Well, the Daily Squib tracked him down and asked him, face to face.
We like to visit past luminaries of British politics now and then, and this time we’re back in Kirkcaldy, Scotland, a place dear to Gordon Brown.
We find the former leader round the back of a kebab shop where he indulges in some scraps and sometimes even gets a full doner from the owners.
DS: Gordon, nice to see you. You’re looking well. I can see you’ve found a new jacket since we last met and even had a shave.
GB: Eeeeeargh! Some c*nts betta have some booze on ya?
DS: Four cans of brew for you Gordo, your favourite.
GB: Aaaah! Happy as Larry! (click sleurp, Gordon tucks into the first can)
DS: So have you been watching the news, since you were thrown out of Number 10, things have changed a bit?
GB: Ah watch a bit on the High Street, Curry’s is good. The scum Tories are in noo, and that Corbyn fellow he’s takkin’ ma job. I saw that lil pip squeak Ed tried to win but voters saw through him. I nevah won an election meself so I know how he feels. Bashtards the lot!
DS: During your reign you ruled with an iron thumping fist, I see you still have that angry bitter quality lingering.
GB: They never appreciated me. What I did for the country. Burn, burn, burn in hell! Is there for honesty poverty That hings his head, an’ a’ that; The coward slave – we pass him by, We dare be poor for a’ that!
DS: I have a message from Darling here, he says that he is sorry the way it turned out for you since Sarah threw you out three years ago he’s offering you a space in his barn. There will be straw and warmth away from the cold plus a few drams here or there.
GB: Tell him his kindness is not needed. Ahve got the freedom o the road here.
DS: The Daily Squib readers have scraped a few pennies together to give you. Here is 43 pence. You can maybe put it towards a hot meal or maybe some more booze.
GB: Takk yer money n shove it up yer arses! The Daily Squib? You twits gave me nuttin’ but grief during my days as supreme comrade in chief. I should have had you all shot! Thash what Stalin would have done. On second thoughts I’ll have that. (grabbing coins violently) Now leave me be ya basts. Yaaargh!
And with a smelly flurry, Gordon left us, his destination of who knows where beckoning, but a legend in his own frazzled mind.