Election 2015: The Heavy One.

The scene is a busy town centre somewhere in a dark corner of the British Isles. Mrs Boggs is wandering aimlessly around because that’s what she does on a Tuesday afternoon, when she encounters a smart young man with a microphone.

‘Excuse me, madam.’

‘Who are you?’

‘I’m from the BBC and I’m conducting some research into people’s opinions and voting intentions in the General Election. I wondered whether I might ask you a couple of questions.’

‘Are they easy?’

‘Of course.’

‘Oh, all right then.’

‘Thank you. First of all would you tell me what you consider to be the five most important things in life?’

‘Erm… Cars, erm… Clothes, erm… three piece suites, erm… and chicken McNuggets.’

‘That’s only four.’

‘Is it? Oh, erm… Eastenders!’

‘I see, so who will you be voting for on May 7^th?’

‘May 7^th?’

‘Yes. That’s polling day. You know, the day when we all go and vote for the next government.’

‘Is it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Oh, right. Let’s see, erm… erm… erm… Oh, I dunno.’

‘Well, do you have a preference for any particular party?’

‘No, I don’t get out much these days.’

‘I see. So you’re a floating voter?’

‘Am I?’

‘No, I’m asking you. Are you a floating voter?’

‘You mean can I swim?’

‘No, I don’t mean can you swim. A floating voter is someone who hasn’t a clue about policies, principles or anything else beyond their cars, clothes, three piece suites, chicken McNuggets and bleep Eastenders. They’re the ones who make last minute, arbitrary, usually irrational decisions in the marginal seats and swing the vote in favour of one party or the other. They’re the ones who decide what the rest of us will have to put up with for the next five years. Tragic, isn’t it?’

‘God, you’re posh aren’t you? Did you go to college?’

‘I’m asking the questions.’

‘Fuck off.’