VIP

One thing I've noticed that we Heads of State all have in common is a large entourage. Personal assistants, special advisers and numerous burly security guards all help to show you, the commoners, that I am a very, very important person.

Now with this in mind, and the internet awash with completely unjustified criticism of my spontaneous outburst of patriotism at Wimbledon, I called the head of Scotland's polis on my special hotline to ask for more security as I hit the campaign trail. He was in a meeting with his top brass so knew that my call would be put through immediately.

Me: "Good Morning Superintendent. It's your glorious leader here."

Head of Polis (hand over phone receiver): "Excuse me lads, I've got Bravebelly on the Fatphone."

Me:" Now listen here. I'm none to happy with all this abuse I'm getting for Wimbledon, and even unhappier that the All England Club have sent me a letter banning me from the place. It's obvious that I need more security."

Head of Polis: "Mr Bravebelly, sir, I think the biggest threat to your security is probably yourself. I thought I explained the rules about how you are supposed to behave in the Royal Box."

Me: " Well that's all water under the bridge now. Send me more coppers. And I want the ones with the dark glasses and the wires coming out of their ears. They make me look really important."

Head of Polis: " Sire, I can only restate my position. There is not a sufficient threat to justify the huge cost that such personal security would entail. My budget has been decimated over the last few years and I barely have the manpower to police the country's populus never mind you."

Me: "Havers man. I am the populus. I am the most important Scot for generations and if anything happens to me then our dream of an independent Nirvana will turn to dust."

Head of Polis: "That will be your dream Sir. I think you'll find the large majority of Scots don't want independence."

Me: "Then that's all the more the reason to send me more coppers. What if I get "Nigel Faraged" when I'm walking about Edinburgh among the great unwashed ?"

Head of Polis: "Sorry Sir. I don't see the risk and I don't have the money."

Me: "Right. I'll find the money from the Scottish Office and get Big John Swindly to hide the paper trail. Just send me the coppers."

Head of Polis: "As you command sire."


Now, with the annual bill for my 14 Special Advisers costing the Scottish public £ 930,000 how do I ensure that the press never find out about this latest exercise in hubris????