It was the second-to-last day of term. The regular drama teacher had called in sick and the supply teacher, Mr Bercow, had been roped in at the last minute to take the final dress rehearsal of the school pantomime. And for a while it had all gone just fine. Sure the two leads, Theresa and Jeremy, had been predictably useless – neither could remember their words, let alone act – and the panto was all but dead in the water but it was no skin off his nose. Bercow’s only real job was to stop fights breaking out between the two gangs and then get the hell out of there.
Halfway through the final act, it all began to kick off. Pupils from both sides had long since stopped paying any attention to the main stage and were all staring at their phones and chatting among themselves. The school CCTV had apparently caught Jeremy saying what looked like “stupid woman” under his breath when Theresa had once again fluffed her lines. The deputy prefects surrounding Jeremy were particularly agitated.
Bercow checked his watch. Enough was enough. The show was going nowhere but he’d done his bit. The moment he rang the bell for the end of class, Jeremy scarpered out the room. At which point the Tory gang went berserk. Kicking the wooden benches in front of them, stamping their feet, “Please sir, point of order, sir,” they shouted.
“No, points of order come after statements,” Bercow growled, sensing he was already beginning to lose control. The Tory gang screamed louder and Bercow bowed to the inevitable. Go on then, he said, his voice heavy with foreboding.
Patrick McLoughlin was first in. Even though he hadn’t been looking and there had been a great deal of background noise, he had definitely heard Jeremy mutter “stupid woman”. It was an absolute disgrace and he demanded an apology.
“Here, here, shame,” yelled dozens of the male members of the Tory gang, all of whom had called Theresa far worse in private themselves. Bercow sighed. He hadn’t really been paying attention himself and had no idea what Jeremy may or may not have said. Couldn’t everyone just give him a break?
Boo! Hiss! The Tory gang weren’t happy. But sir, that’s not fair, sir. You’re always so much nicer to the Labour gang than you are to us. If it had been a Labour person saying “stupid woman” you’d have given him a detention.
Next up was Andrea Leadsom. Wasn’t it true that sir had also once called her a stupid woman on a previous occasion when he’d been taking the class? Bercow started shaking. This was so much worse than he had feared. He wagged his finger at Andrea. That matter had already been dealt with and he had already explained to her that when he had called her a stupid woman, he wasn’t actually calling her a stupid woman. Just observing that she was a woman who happened to be a bit dim. He kicked himself. He must learn to stop digging. The panto ended in chaos with further points of order. Misogyny! Misogyny! Someone’s got Misogyny!
Jeremy used the lunch break to get various members of his gang to agree that he had never said ‘stupid woman’. What he had actually said was ‘stupid peepul’. The fact that it may have looked like he was saying ‘woman’ was because he had downloaded some YouTube ventriloquism videos and that if you stuck your tongue behind your teeth then a P could appear a bit like a W. Sadly, the message got through to Barry Gardiner a bit too late and he had already told everyone on national TV that Jeremy had said ‘stupid woman’. Bazza would be in for a kicking later.
In the staffroom, Bercow was also having a miserable day. He’d hoped to spend the afternoon finishing his Christmas shopping but now he was engaged in full-blown disciplinary proceedings with a lip reader and a lip speaker. The findings had fortunately been conclusively inconclusive but he was recalling the whole class to hear Jeremy’s apology. I’m sorry if you thought I said ‘stupid woman’ but what I really said was ‘stupid peepul,” he mumbled, before sitting down quickly and staring at his feet.
More chaos. Vicky Ford announced that Bercow had previously called her a ‘stupid woman’ as well and what did he have to say about that? More finger wagging. Bercow could feel his career sliding away from him. He had never said that and if she said he had then she was mistaken. So there. Cue 10 more points of order in which the Tory gang all said they would never dream of calling Jeremy a liar but he was lying through his teeth. Both ends of the pantomime horse were now in open warfare with one another. This wasn’t the way the show was supposed to end.
Not everyone was unhappy though. Theresa was thrilled that her abject performance had been completely overshadowed while young Sajid couldn’t believe his luck no one was concentrating on the fact his immigration white paper was heavy on rhetoric but almost devoid of any firm commitments. On any other day, his campaign to become head boy would have taken a major hit. Happy Brexmas everyone.
