Heavy feelings ran deep in the oak-lined room. Green and red friezes adorned the area behind the lectern as the gruff unionist approached. This match was definitely not of his doing and if, as he suspected, it all turned nasty, he could not help but think he was signing his own death warrant.
They stood at the lectern as their eyes danced about knowingly. A small grunt echoed at the rear of the chamber. Mr. Gower, it seems, was struggling to maintain any semblance of decorum. It was still hours until the Newshub fanfare and he had just too much to say. He was calmed with a soothing dose of diamorphine and proceeded to allow the envelope of sleep to post his body to the chair in the corner.
The gruff one was the first to speak.
“Friends,” he regaled the waiting audience, “it is with proud heart and large trouser that I announce my engagement to this delightful woman.”
The delightful woman placed a hand over her mouth and giggled delicately. The mirage would have been complete had she not punctuated the giggle with a light snort.
“I am,” he continued, “in love with this woman. I have loved her since the first day upon which our eyes did meet. It was on that day I vowed she would be mine.”
He then turned to her and, taking her around the waste, placed an eye watering kiss upon her ample lips. The room was silent. Never before had there been such an erotically charged press conference.
Just as quickly as he arrived, he left the podium. He glanced back at her once on the way out of the room and then, like a scone at the Morrinsville bake-sale, he was gone.
She stared at he empty doorway wishing their love would last eternity but knowing he would give it all away if he needed to suckle at the teat of Mr. Winston.