Given everyone in Brussels seems to be nuts, creating a parliament of fruit and vegetable ministers seemed too good an opportunity to miss.
But sometimes ideas prove slow burners.
Many years ago, the seeds of wordplay within me were sewn by way of a series of adolescent forays into the lexicographical, anarchical cacophony that was Xerox, our ‘musical’ band.
Chris, Steve and myself, as band members, distinctly remember the hordes of young girls hysterically rattling the gates of our homes at all hours of the night, trying to get out. It certainly could only have been the quality of our Xerox albums that came to inspire some of the great rock legends of our age – to quit music.
But for all our success, our real passion was for writing, and wordplay.
And so it was that the fruit and vegetable parliament was born. We were to create an illustrated series of prime minister’s questions from a fictional House of Commons in which such parliamentary luminaries as Tom Mato and Amanda Rinn (check out both names on Facebook, these people are real) debated the key-wi issues of the day. Nana Split the pensions minister, among others, featured. Stories of these ministers’ inflated celeries were leeked to the gutter cress.
But we’d missed a trick.
We’d never found the name for our prime minister. Until recently.
Something had evidently stirred. At 2am I was to awake, and there was the name, clear as day in my mind, in all its glory.
When the chips are down in Europe, step forward our glorious leader – Dick Tater.