And there were we thinking that they were a pair of dead men walking who absolutely loathed each other! Now it turns out we were wrong, and that they're really great mates after all. Look, I'm normally a cynical sort of chap, but in this instance I see no reason to doubt that this was an entirely spontaneous decision. The fact that they shut down the pub so they could enjoy a bit of a chinwag - like old muckers do - is neither here nor there.
"Hey, Nick."
"Yes, Vince, you old rogue?"
"I normally pop down the boozer around this time of a the morning for a few pints of wallop and a bit of a giggle. Fancy joining me?"
"I was just thinking how much I - being a typical sort of bloke, just like that Nigel Farage - wouldn't mind a skinfull to set me up nicely for the afternoon. So, yeah, I'm well up for it. Maybe we should rope in Mike Oakeshott and Chris Huhne and make an afternoon of it. God, how incredibly bloody normal we are!"
"That we are, pal, that we are."
I know they didn't do this for publicity purposes: nevertheless, it's bound to convince voters to let bygones be bygones and to return in droves to their vile, conscienceless, malodorous pustule of a political party.
"Oi, you two wankers - piss off. You're barred!"
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