The door to number 10's dining room bursts open, and in storms Ed Miliband with a face like thunder. David Cameron jumps, dropping his many forks onto the table, looking over at Ed with wide eyes.
"Do you have any idea what you've done?!" Ed yells, slamming his hands onto the long dining table. The long dining table that they used to sit at together, laughing and sipping expensive wine, before Nigel came along. Nigel. Nigel was going to pay. "You've completely screwed Britain up! Nigel fucking Farage is giggling away under his little bridge having a really good time, and everyone hates you! If I'd been elected prime minister this wouldn't have happened!"
"You can't fight Nigel, Eddie. You know -"
"You can, David! You can! You should've!" He straightens up, pinching the bridge of his nose. "But you let Boris get to you, you let him whisper in your ear and you let him persuade you that this was a good idea."
"Eddie, c'mon," David stands, cupping Ed's face with one large, corrupt hand. "You know I didn't want us to leave, it's not my fault."
"But it is!" Ed's eyes fill with tears, his throat closing up. "You're the Prime Minister, you can do anything!"
"No I can't, it's not that easy. This is it now, this is it for us."
"How could you do this? We were fine as we were!" David knows he's not just talking about Brexit anymore; he's talking about them not being the same, not after Ed Balls walked in on them one time, and then David called off their 'thing', whatever that had been.
"Eddie, you know I care about you -"
"No you don't. You just care about being popular." Ed steps back, ignoring the dismayed look on David's face.
"Popular? Is that what you think?"
"Yes, that's what I think."
David folds his arms. His large, corrupted arms, that Ed loves - loved - so much. "I'm not sure you could do much better. If you weren't so shit at politics then maybe you'd have got in as PM."
Ed's mouth drops. "Shit at politics? I became a meme for my country and what did you do?! You fucked a pig!"
"A) not true, and B) you quit the second you lost!"
"I'm sorry, who resigned yesterday morning like a big baby?!"
David scoffs and storms from the room, ignoring Ed as he calls after him, and he slams the door shut. Like a big baby.
--
"It's okay, Dave, most people fuck pigs when they're at university."
"I know, but..." David sighs, his face in his hands. "He always wants to use it against me."
Boris shrugs, inching closer to him on the bed. "He's just upset he made the wrong choice."
"But -"
"Shh, he'll come around. He'll know it was the right thing to do."
David looks at Boris and Boris looks at David, leaning closer. Boris was the first person David had gone to after his argument with Ed, but he didn't feel all that much better for doing so.
"Boris, I can't -"
"Why not?"
"Because - you know why."
"Ed? C'mon, he's not even in your party. You deserve someone who's going to love you no matter how much you fuck the country up."
"Eddie does love me. At least, I think he does."
"I wouldn't be so sure. Besides, you've gotta let me be PM now - Trump's your number one fan. If I'm PM and he's President then it's going to be the battle of the fringes! It'll be the best moment of my entire life! Which is a lot of life because I'm pretty old, not as old as Jezza Corbyn though - hey, speaking of which, I saw him the other day. Cosying up to your Eddie."
"What? No..."
"Yes...so let me love you, Dave...let me love you..."
And so their mouths met, and as the two men kissed (horrible thought but luckily I can't picture it so I think I'm good), they were blissfully unaware of a face pressed against the window. The trollish, toad-like face of Nigel Fromage.
--
"Psst, Queenie, operation 0511 is ready."
"Well done, Nigey-Wigey. You've been a good little frog."
--
There's a knock on Ed's bedroom window, and he opens it to see a familiar face.
"Nick!" He whispers, letting the former Lib Dem leader into his room.
"Oh God, Eddie, I've missed you so much," Ed winces at the nickname smiles as Nick closes the window, before engulfing him in a huge hug.
"I missed you too, Cleggy," he whispers, and he feels safe here, he feels warm and home and so much better than when he's with David. David just ruins his life and his country and Ed doesn't need that; he needs someone who understands, someone who loves him, someone who isn't so far up Boris Johnson's arse that he can see what he had for breakfast. "So much."
--
As Boris, Dave and Michael Gove talks about cake in one room, and Ed and Cleggy make passionate love in another, while some other people whose names nobody knows nor cares about because they're probably Tories and they're a bit rubbish sit in a third room, Queen Liz sneaks into the basement, where Fromage set 900 barrels of gunpowder. It was more like 17 but 900 sounded more impressive. Or that was what he said at least.
She gets out her lighting equipment (idk she's too sophisticated for a zippo) and glances around, before hitting two stones together to make a spark. It takes several attempts but then she succeeds, and soon a trail of fire from the lit gunpowder on the floor leads from her to the barrels. She quickly escapes the scene through a secret tunnel into the Thames, swimming to Fromage's secret base under a bridge, where she nods to tell him that it's complete.
And then she takes off her mask and wig.
It's not Queen Liz.
It's Guy Fawkes.
-----
