Votes for sale... going cheap – ish...

Dear Prime Minister,

It is patently obvious that you and your lot will need every vote it can get at the next general election

You don’t know me – yet – but with the greatest respect I would suggest that it will be in your best interests, and those of your party, to get to know me as soon as possible. And if I seem to be a tad impertinent or talking in riddles, let me elucidate further.

You see, I happen to belong to that rare genus... well, rare in Malta anyhow... known as Votaris Bouyantes – or floating voter. Since this is a creature with which you are undoubtedly unfamiliar, I should explain that this is an animal with no discernible political affiliations.

Therefore you may accurately assume that I do not, have never and almost certainly will never belong to any organised party.

But to get to the nuts and bolts of my letter: I come from a very large family. In fact, my parents produced no fewer than 14 – yes, 14 – children, 12 of which still survive. And 11 of my 12 remaining siblings have – in turn – each produced their own multiple broods.

The odd ‘man’ out, metaphorically speaking, being my second youngest sister Denise – who these days walks around in dungarees, refuses to shave her top lip and prefers to be known as Dennis... ‘nuff said.

My father, the titular head of our family, is 78 years old and in excellent health, but in matters pertaining to general elections my opinion is law. This means I hold sway over the voting preferences of a considerable number of voters, as even many of the third generation of my family now have offspring of voting age.

That means my vote and my wife’s, my in-laws votes, plus my siblings and their wives... that’s 22 so far. Then there are the guaranteed delivered votes of their children... some 34, plus their husbands and wives at the last count... and not forgetting at least another 20-something from the next generation.

I think by now you can see which way this missive is heading. My family subscribe to something we call PVC; no it’s not a reference to that shiny plastic stuff that seems to be the preferred attire of women of the night. Instead, the letters stand for Pre-Vote Commitment.

See, by ensuring that every single member of our brood will vote the way I instruct them, I can guarantee to deliver to your doorstep quite a lot of number one votes. And – since it is patently obvious that you and your lot will need every vote it can get at the next general election, I think you’ll agree this is a highly desirable situation. Particularly so, since nine-tenths of my family reside in your district.

Now, I can see you thinking: Hmm, that means upwards of 80-plus votes, very nice too. But what does he want in return?

My demands are slight... especially so in the light of my invaluable contribution to your electoral effort.

Unlike a certain backbench MP who has been troubling you somewhat of late, my, and my family’s demands will not require any change to the constitution. On the contrary, I’m sure you will be relieved at their modesty.

In return for my family’s block vote, we will require you to pass the following legislation (in this legislature and as soon as humanly possible please). Your priority legislation will... perhaps inevitably... be to my own personal advantage.

I will require the Cabinet, without further ado, to secure a lifetime’s membership for yours truly at the Scallywags Club. It’s an, ahem... gentlemen’s club in Paceville.

Now I know you get a bit po-faced about anything pertaining to even a slight loosening of our national morality – hence your attitude to JPO’s divorce bill, but you’ll just have to grin and ‘bare’ it if you want the votes of the Vella Cantonera family.

Oh yes, and we’ll also require five-figure income tax ‘rebates’ for the lot of us. That shouldn’t over-tax the tax department; in fact, I reckon it should be considerably less than it costs Iċ-Ċaqnu to fuel his Lear jet every time he whisks Tonio off to a Gunners home game.

So, Il-Prim, if you could see to those modest requests I’d be most grateful, and you’ll have a much better chance of keeping your job.

Yours in familial solidarity,

Derek Vella Cantonera... and family – all of them.