Anthony Talbot: Boy comes in here to help, and what do you do? - Make a string of vile insinuations!
DCI Tom Barnaby: Making inquiries, Mr. Talbot, not insinuations.
Anthony Talbot: I hope you're not one of those chip on the soldier types who always takes the criminal's side, Barnaby.
DCI Tom Barnaby: No, I'm one of those 'let's do the job properly' types.
Recently, I watched this old episode on itv; it was about a posh school club, called the Pudding Club. The name of the club sounded as absurd as what went on in there; young dressed up upper classy school boys behaving like total twats performing bizarre rituals. It was like watching Brideshead Revisited; after a while I felt the same urge Sebastian Flyte must have felt when leaning into the window of Charles Ryder and, well, barfed it all out... Clearly, itv was overdoing it again, I thought.
DCI Barnaby said "I'm one of those 'Let's do the job properly' types" and in that matter the copper is undoubtedly similar to our Prime Minister. The latter does his job so properly, that in last week's PMQs I nearly fell asleep whilst he answered every question properly and promptly. It was all a bit too slick. Our PM felt very safe and secure on his bench.
Politically, this whole summer was boring, and even though Europe is drowning in refugees and migrants, this didn't affect UK politics at all. Theresa May was concerned about building an even stronger fence around the Chunnel, but that was it. AND NOW THE DEAD PIG! This is even better than itv's Pudding Club episode, far better. There clearly is a God - "Thank you, Lord, I love you very much. Amen!"
When I went to bed last Sunday night I looked at what Twitter and Instagram had to say. People were so creative around the topic "sex with pigs". I sat in my bed and laughed and laughed and laughed, for more than an hour, passing from tweet to tweet. At some stage my neighbours knocked asking if I were okay. "Of course I am okay, I said, Cameron face-f*cked a dead pig!"
What makes this whole incident so funny for us mere mortals? I am sure in some social circles people will shrug and retort "Yes, so what?". I guess it's not so much the fact that he actually performed this stupid and childish initiation rite for that Gaveston Club, it's the fact that he got caught and published. It's a mockery of the English class system. He, who is so slick and knows all the answers. He, who thinks can take on the whole of the EU. And he, who is so sure of himself, who won the last election. Yes he, he f*cked a dead pig's face.
And please, whoever reads this, please do what I did, go to a butcher and look at a dead pig's head and think Cameron. And think procedure: Did he pull his trousers down or was he naked with simply a bow-tie on? Was he erect or maybe got aroused whilst at it? Did he just put his "private part" inside the mouth, or did he actually commit the sexual act of combined necrophilia and bestiality by moving in and out? How long did he do it? How many people were watching? Was it embarrassing for him? Did he have to "finish off"? The catalogue of questions is endless.
What I was also thinking: I can't wait for Wednesday's PMQs (not knowing that there was a 3 week break. Bad planning, Lord Ashcroft!). What will the Queen say to him at his next audience with her? How will he react when someone in the House of Commons suddenly shouts "oink" when he appears? I imagined the next EU Summit, and colleagues of his suddenly stop talking when he arrives. When people smile at him, will he from now on always think they think swine?
Animals, funny enough, stick with their associated humans. When I see Corgie I think Queen, when I see Rottweiler I think Camilla, and when I see pig I think Cameron.
The BBC and Downing Street are giving us, the public, the silence treatment hoping it would all go away. The BBC commits some sort of an act of censorship, Downing Street is probably clueless and says nothing, hoping the public will forgive and forget. And what would one want to do anyway knowing that somewhere in this world is photographic evidence? Reality is, for us it's the gift that keeps on giving. Once someone is called a pig-f*cker, this someone will always be called a pig-f*cker. Nicknames also stick.
If Downing Street banks on forgiveness, then they are probably right. Of course, we forgive him for doing it, it's a funny prank and he was a student after all. And we also forgive him for all his drug abuse because we wouldn't want to throw the first stone, would we? We will forgive him for f*cking a dead pig's mouth as much as we forgave Prince Harry for playing a Nazi and having naked parties in Las Vegas. The UK is a liberal country with a sense of humour after all.
This whole #piggate affair is not about forgiveness, it is about forgetting, and that's the bummer the PM has to live with, because nobody on our planet Earth will ever forget. It is up to David Cameron now who needs to decide how much of a laughing stock he is and how much he is going to harm the dignity of his office with his past.
Only the future will tell what is going to happen. Let's wait and see. Having laughed so much, now it's time to get serious!
DCI Tom Barnaby: Smothered by a meat pudding, flattened by the roller and bashed about the head. Not necessarily in that order.
Sergeant Gavin Troy: Think it could be accidental, Sir?
DCI Tom Barnaby: No time for jokes, Troy.
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