Knock Knock

N.B.: Originally penned just before the 2010 General Election.


* knock knock*

I open the door. 'Hello?'

'Hi. I'm your Labour candidate. Can I rely on your vote?'

I reach forward and tear his face off. Below, wide-eyed, is David Cameron.

'Aha!' I shout, 'I knew it was you all along! Now sod off back to the PR job, you insincere git.'

He slouches off, grumbling under his breath. No doubt he'll be back later with his mates, to break my windows and smash my plates, then pay me for the damage.


*knock knock*

I open the door. 'Hello?'

'Hi. I'm your Conservative candidate. Can I rely on your vote?'

'See this?' I tell him, pointing into the interior of my flat, toward the cage with my two pet rats, 'What do you REALLY see?'

He squints. ''Erm... social workers. Ordinary workers. Civil liberties campaigners. Daily Mirror readers. People who dislike ripping animals apart. People who belong to unions-'

I slam the door on his Hapsburg nose.


*knock knock*

I open the door. 'Hello?'

'Hi! I'm your Lib Dem candidate. Can I rely on your vote?'

I point into the communal garden, at a long structure made of a series of wooden slats. 'See that fence? Go sit on it. If you can do so for ten minutes without tumbling off to the right, you're in with a chance.'

'Okay-dokey!' he says cheerfully before sauntering off into the garden.


*knock knock*

I open the door. 'Hello?'

'Hi! I'm your BNP candidate. Can I rely on-'

*SMACK!*

'Yow! You hit me!' he squeals, clutching his nose, 'Whaddya do that for? I was in the Inter City Firm! I'll get my mates round and we'll-'

I sigh, pull my trusty Smith and Wesson from the shoulder holster, then shoot him between the eyes. He looks nonplussed. I sigh again, reach out to spin him round, then shoot him in the arse. He drops like a stone. I drag him into the communal garden and hide his carcass in the shed, next to the English Democrat. The Lib Dem is sitting on the fence, grinning and humming. I return to my flat.


*knock knock*

I open the door. 'Hello?'

'Hi! I'm your UKIP candidate. Can I rely on your vote?'

I frown. 'Not sure. What does You Kip stand for?'

'We're called that because whenever someone mentions political realities, we fall asleep.'

*door slams*

There's an alarmed yelp from the garden, followed by a crashing sound. I wonder which way the Lib Dem fell.