Juncker and Dave: peace at last

It always pains me to see two of my friends fall out with each other, as Jean-Claude and Dave did.

So much more gratifying it is then to see them patch up their differences. Now Jean-Claude (or Junk, as he likes his friends to call him) has been confirmed as president of the EU Commission, Dave has apologised for the harsh words he uttered in the distant and long-forgotten past. Three days ago, to be exact.

“I can do business with Junk,” he said to me when we popped out for our customary drink at Chez Kevin. “All those things I’m reported to have said about him? First, I didn’t say them. Second, I didn’t mean them the way they sounded.

“Like when I said Junk’s appointment was a bad day for Europe? I actually said it was a good day for Europe. What I said made it a bad day was that the press had misunderstood what I’d really said.

“Junk likes a drink? Show me a good man who doesn’t. Why, in my Bullingdon days I myself could put it away like there’s no tomorrow. Old Junk is teetotal by comparison.

“Even now, when I feel like chillaxing a bit, I go to my favourite boozer Parvenu-on-the-Park and have some Bolli in a pint glass, to make it look like cider in case that bloke from The Mirror is snooping around.

“The landlord, calls himself Marie-Antoine, keeps a bottle of Bolli under the bar, just for me. So when I say, within the Mirror bloke’s earshot, ‘Tone, me old china, giz a pint of Wife Beater, mate,’ he knows what to pour.

“Took Junk there the other day, and you know what he told me after his fourth Sambuca? ‘Dave,’ he said, ‘I’ll give Britain a fair deal, don’t you worry, mate, mon ami.’

“How good is that? I did ask him to be more specific, and Junk said from now on, whenever there’s a vacancy in the Commission, he’ll look to appoint a Brit first, second and turd.

“I laughed at the pun, like Junk wanted me to. His English, to be honest for a change, isn’t quite as good as he thinks. Like when he told me the other day not to f*** him, I had to correct him. Junk, I said, you don’t mean f*** you. You mean f*** with you, and I’m the last man to want to do that.

“So as we move on from this episode, what do I take away from it? That my determination to succeed, for the sake of Britain and for the sake of Europe, has paid off and now it’s even greater than ever.

“Why, Junk even said when it’s time for me to look for another job next year, he’d be happy to appoint me his Vice Prez.

“And you know what I said? That’ll have to wait, mate. Hold your horses. I’ll piss all over 2015, largely thanks to you, Junk.

“Anyone who thought I was going to back down or blink is now thinking again. I’ll walk the election, get another fiver at 10 Downing, and after that I’ll be ready for your job. So we are heading to the same place, but at different speeds.

“Junk ordered another Sambuca and put a match to it. ‘It’s now a flamer,’ he said. ‘Like Mandy. You know, Peter?’ I laughed, like Junk wanted me to.”

When Dave told me all that, I wiped my brow. First, it’s good to know that my close friends Dave and Junk have kissed and made up. And second, I’m deliriously happy that Britain’s, or at least some Brits’, future in Europe is now secure.

Sorted, as Dave says whenever that bloke from The Mirror is about. His glottal stop is almost as good as Blair’s.

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