I might go to hell for this, my 3,000th post.
CAROL THATCHER BRINGS A YOUNG MALE CARER, TOBY, IN TO SEE LADY T
CAROL
And here we are. Here's mumsie. Give her her lunch at noon, please. (TO THATCHER) I'm going out, mumsie. Got to get some vewy important shopping. This is Toby. He's going to look after you.
THATCHER
(DODDERY) I'm the Prime Minister, you know.
CAROL
Cheewio.
CAROL WALKS OFF.
TOBY
Now Margaret, I'm going to...
THATCHER
(SUDDENLY SHARP) Lady Thatcher, lackey.
TOBY
What?
THATCHER
Did you really think I'd lost my marbles, you cretin? I'm only pretending to get her out of the house. Have you any idea what it's like to hear that stupid voice? All that "Oh, when I was Queen of the Jungle the Bwitish public loved me."
TOBY
But, your poor daughter ...
THATCHER
Poor? Bollocks. She's making a fortune out of my "Alzheimer's"
TOBY
But ... but ... it said in the paper you think Denis is still alive.
THATCHER
He is.
SIR DENIS WALKS ON WITH GIN IN HAND.
SIR DENIS
Has she gone yet?
ENDS
