In his office Gordon fumed over the exit polls. He had expected to be creamed by that pompous twat Cameron, but to come in third behind the wretched Lib Dems… it was intolerable.
All those years of hard work, only to have it screwed up by those muppets on Wall Street.
“Bollocks to it all!” Gordon screamed.
Storming from the room he ripped off his suit and began to pull on the red lycra devil costume. In the lock-up garage behind Number 10 his mechanical spider awaited.
He hit speed dial.
“Come on Darling, I’m going out with a bang.”