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Copyright© 2017 by Scriptorius

Chapter 75: Leadership

Donald: Take a seat, William. I imagine you know why I asked you to call in.

William: No, Donald. I’ve no idea what’s on your mind.

Donald: Really? It’s the same thing that’s giving all of us some sleepless nights. To put it bluntly, we need a change of leader. You know as well as I do that every time the present incumbent makes a speech, we probably lose another few hundred thousand votes. With the election coming up we can’t afford to experience many more of our gaffer’s gaffes, if you’ll pardon the touch of alliteration. It’s been put to me that I should sound out potential replacements. What are your views?

William: I can’t say I’ve given the matter much thought. You know I’m fully occupied with my own brief. Now that you raise the point, I’m not sure what to say.

Donald: Well, what do think of Tom for the job?

William: Oh, no. The man’s an idiot. As far as our game is concerned, he doesn’t know his base from his apex. He’d get us into a dreadful mess.

Donald: That’s unequivocal enough. How about Harold?

William: We can’t have him. The public might learn of his shenanigans with those three women – all at the same time, if what I heard is true.

Donald: Ah, there’s a point, and it’s sure to get out. His friends will see to that. The other thing I’ve been pondering on is the gender matter. What’s your opinion of Winifred?

William: A ghastly woman. A wicked witch if ever I met one. All claws and spite and totally without political nous.

Donald: So there’s another bleak assessment. Unfortunately she’s the most senior woman in our ranks. In that respect our opponents are better placed than we are. Who else can we discuss?

William: I’m stumped, Donald.

Donald: What do you make of Bob?

William: He wouldn’t do at all. He can certainly box the compass in terms of changing his stance at five-minute intervals, but he can’t do it with with any degree of sophistication or panache.

Donald: Hmn, I’d have to go along with you there. My goodness, we seem to be scraping the barrel. How do you rate Frank?

William: A roughneck. A knuckle-dragger. The mystery to me is that he doesn’t live in a cave and carry a club. I mean you only have to look at the way he walks around this building, growling and scratching his armpits.

Donald: Well, yes. I grant you he isn’t the most prepossessing of men. So I suppose we can rule him out. That brings me to our number two female, Amanda. Do you think she might do?

William: Definitely not. For one thing she’s offended too many of us on her way up. There must be a score of people in our ranks who’d love to see her go back down, and they’d put the boot in to accelerate the process. It’s hard to tell which part of her anatomy is sharper, elbows or tongue.

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