The Dead Candidate Sketch

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With appologies to the MP crew…

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A ‘Realist’ enters a Democratic Blog.

  Democratic Realist: ‘Ello, I wish to register a complaint.

  (The Stubborn Gore Fan does not respond.)

  Democratic Realist: ‘Ello, Miss?

  Stubborn Gore Fan: What do you mean “miss”?

  Democratic Realist: I’m sorry, I have a cold. I wish to make a complaint!

  Stubborn Gore Fan: We’re closin’ for lunch.

  Democratic Realist: Never mind that, my lad. I wish to complain about this candidate what I purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.

  Stubborn Gore Fan: Oh yes, the, uh, the Tennessee Blue…What’s,uh…What’s wrong with it?

  Democratic Realist: I’ll tell you what’s wrong with it, my lad. ‘E’s dead, that’s what’s wrong with it!

  Stubborn Gore Fan: No, no, ‘e’s uh,…he’s resting.

  Democratic Realist: Look, matey, I know a dead candidate when I see one, and I’m looking at one right now.

  Stubborn Gore Fan: No no he’s not dead, he’s, he’s restin’! Remarkable fella, the Tennessee Blue, idn’it, ay? Beautiful plumage!

  Democratic Realist: The plumage don’t enter into it. It’s stone dead.

  Stubborn Gore Fan: Nononono, no, no! ‘E’s resting!

  Democratic Realist: All right then, if he’s restin’, I’ll wake him up! (shouting at the cage) ‘Ello, Mister Polly Candidate! I’ve got a lovely fresh Nomination for President for you if you show…

  (Stubborn Gore Fan hits the cage)

  Stubborn Gore Fan: There, he moved!

  Democratic Realist: No, he didn’t, that was you hitting the cage!

  Stubborn Gore Fan: I never!!

  Democratic Realist: Yes, you did!

  Stubborn Gore Fan: I never, never did anything…

  Democratic Realist: (yelling and hitting the cage repeatedly) ‘ELLO POLLY!!!!! Testing! Testing! Testing! Testing! This is your nine o’clock alarm call!

  (Takes candidate out of the cage and thumps its head on the counter. Throws it up in the air and watches it plummet to the floor.)

  Democratic Realist: Now that’s what I call a dead candidate.

  Stubborn Gore Fan: No, no…..No, ‘e’s stunned!

  Democratic Realist: STUNNED?!?

  Stubborn Gore Fan: Yeah! You stunned him, just as he was wakin’ up! Tennessee Blues stun easily, major.

  Democratic Realist: Um…now look…now look, mate, I’ve definitely ‘ad enough of this. That candidate is definitely deceased, and when I purchased it not ‘alf an hour ago, you assured me that its total lack of movement was due to it bein’ tired and shagged out following a prolonged squawk.

  Stubborn Gore Fan: Well, he’s…he’s, ah…probably pining for the fjords.

  Democratic Realist: PININ’ for the FJORDS?!?!?!? What kind of talk is that?, look, why did he fall flat on his back the moment I got ‘im home?

  Stubborn Gore Fan: The Tennessee Blue prefers keepin’ on it’s back! Remarkable fella, id’nit, squire? Lovely plumage!

  Democratic Realist: Look, I took the liberty of examining that candidate when I got it home, and I discovered the only reason that it had been sitting on its perch in the first place was that it had been NAILED there.

  (pause)

  Stubborn Gore Fan: Well, o’course it was nailed there! If I hadn’t nailed that fella down, it would have nuzzled up to those bars, bent ’em apart with its beak, and VOOM! Feeweeweewee!

  Democratic Realist: “VOOM”?!? Mate, this fella wouldn’t “voom” if you put four million volts through it! ‘E’s bleedin’ demised!

  Stubborn Gore Fan: No no! ‘E’s pining!

  Democratic Realist: ‘E’s not pinin’! ‘E’s passed on! This candidate is no more! He has ceased to be! ‘E’s expired and gone to meet ‘is maker! ‘E’s a stiff! Bereft of life, ‘e rests in peace! If you hadn’t nailed ‘im to the perch ‘e’d be pushing up the daisies! ‘Is metabolic processes are now ‘istory! ‘E’s off the twig! ‘E’s kicked the bucket, ‘e’s shuffled off ‘is mortal coil, run down the curtain and joined the bleedin’ choir invisibile!! THIS IS AN EX-CANDIDATE!!

  (pause)

  Stubborn Gore Fan: Well, I’d better replace it, then. (he takes a quick peek behind the counter) Sorry squire, I’ve had a look ’round the back of the shop, and uh, we’re right out of candidates.

  Democratic Realist: I see. I see, I get the picture.

  Stubborn Gore Fan: I got a slug.

  (pause)

  Democratic Realist: Pray, does it think?

  Stubborn Gore Fan: Nnnnot really.

  Democratic Realist: WELL IT’S HARDLY A BLOODY REPLACEMENT, IS IT?!!???!!?

  Stubborn Gore Fan: N-no, I guess not. (gets ashamed, looks at his feet)

  Democratic Realist: Well.

  (pause)

  Stubborn Gore Fan: (quietly) D’you…. d’you want to come back to my place?

  Democratic Realist: (looks around) Yeah, all right, sure.