“All that rebranding, all that time and all that effort and what was the point. What was the bloody point. The single biggest endeavour of my career has been to rebrand the Party, and for what? For nothing. The Left still think I’m a heartless, tax-dodging Tory bastard. I hugged huskies in the Arctic. The Arctic for Christ’s sake. I don’t even like the cold, or huskies for that matter. They’re terrifying. I almost froze my todger off up there detoxifying this party. And that’s just the physical ordeals. What about the countless personal embarrassments I endured? Having to pick a football team and then suffer the indignity of forgetting it in front of everyone like a malfunctioning robot, or ride a pedal bike to work everyday for a year in £3.99 polyester tracksuit bottoms, or touring the most Chlamydia infested recesses of the North East encouraging people to embrace the scallywag Asbos that loiter there. I even flew easyJet. But what good did it do me? I’m being hammered from the Left and screwed from the Right. In fact I’ve got more slippery pricks trying to do me in than there are in Elton’s paddling pool. When I leave this prison of a job I’m going to go full Blair and get a yacht and I’m going to sit in it in my pants watching Top Gear. And not the BBC version either, the proper one, with Clarkson in it. Oh yeah and I’m going to murder Stelios for all the easyJet flights I’ve had to sit through before I hop on my learjet to St. Tropez to drink Bollinger out of the bottle and eat caviar by the kilogram. And wear white tie and tails, oh yes”.