Loss leader

"So... how are we going to get rid of him?"

"Er like... er, who do you mean?"

"You know damn well who I mean, Mr Chairman. I'm not naming names, this room may be bugged."

"Oh come, come Vic, those days are long gone, even if some of us... er... they, do yearn wistfully for the bad old days."

"Ah yes, happy times. Bulk-buying."

"Wage freezes."

"North Koreans under the bed."

"Yummy Desserta chocolate... Ah! Nostalgia. Ahem, where were we?"

"Item number one on the agenda, Mr Chairman. How are we going to - "

"Quite. Any suggestions?"

"Um, well..."

"Yes, Reuben?"

"Well, we're all agreed that with you-know-who in charge we're going to win damn all, right?"

"Looks like. By my reckoning, the way things are at present, the best we can hope for at the next election is to come second."

"We might even get pushed into third place if Arnold Cassola gets to be leader of AD."

"What?"

"Just my little joke, but think about it."

"Let's not get sidetracked, gentlemen. Back to item number one, how to dump - "

"Mr Chairman."

"Yes, Victor?"

"Suggestion."

"Go on.".

"Couldn't we somehow contrive to persuade him to go on Joe Grima Live and debate to the death with the fallen angel?"

"Bless you, Vic, I love your childlike ingenuousness, don't ever lose it, will you?"

"I'm serious."

"A dinosaur versus a dodo. Windbag versus pseudo-intellectual. I think not, the public would have switched channels before the old Neanderthal had cleared his throat for take-off."

"Well he's not going to go voluntarily, we know that now."

"Yes, what a waste of champagne that was."

"Practical solutions, gentlemen. Any more ideas?"

"What about if we try to convince him to stand for the European Parliament?"

"He wouldn't stand a chance. If Jimmy Magro didn't get a sniff, what chance would you-know-who have?"

"I know! Couldn't we get Manwel Cuschieri to denounce him on air?"

"Who?"

"Who?"

"Who?"

"Never heard of him. Any more bright ideas?"

"Yeah, why don't we send him to Coventry?"

"He might come back."

"No, no, I mean, not speak to him... ignore him."

"We tried that... he didn't notice. He doesn't really do communication."

"Call me naïve but... has anyone thought of simply asking him to leave?"

"Yes, we all did."

"And?"

"He's still here."

"What about subtle hints like... I dunno. Leaving brochures from insurance companies outlining retirement plans on his desk."

"He won't read unsolicited mail."

"Then perhaps we could take the initiative and maybe give him a present of a pair of slippers."

"It's all been tried, Reuben, and it didn't work. The man has a skin thicker than rhino with acne."

"I think I've got the answer... "

"Well, go on."

"After his last volte-face, you know the one where the EU suddenly, overnight went from purgatory to paradise."

"Keep going."

"He inadvertently dug his own grave."

"Inadvertently?"

"Absolutely. Yesterday the EU is nasty and horrid and yeugh! Today? Was the Garden of Eden ever so bounteous and beautiful?"

"Get to the point, Vic."

"Why don't we put him up for Malta's first EU Commissioner?"

"Yes, he'd do a lovely turn as EU Commissioner for U-turns."

"Naar, it'd never work."

"It's worth a try."

"Well, he did nail his colours to the mast in his book, so..."

"I'm not convinced."

"When's the next batch of illegal immigrants due to leave for Syracuse?"

"Now you're talking."

"All those in favour?"

"Carried unanimously. Are you going to break it to him, or shall I"?