(It was on seeing him sitting in just such a position that Thackeray had come up with the execrable idea for the PM/Chancellor breakfast party political broadcast, about which the PM was still kicking himself. He'd already heard rumours that black market copies of the video were selling for $50 a time in the porn shops in Amsterdam. Chirac was said to have literally pissed himself laughing when he'd first seen it and had been giving him dirty phone calls ever since.) Between every mouthful of toast and egg, he would stop and sigh heavily. Breakfast turned to ash in his mouth. In his head he made a list of the good and the bad of being Prime Minister. Good: you got to be a world statesman and affect the future of the planet; you got to travel first class; you had your own close protection team; you got to eat lots of nice food; you never had to actually do anything for yourself, not even wipe your own bottom if you didn't want to; you got to beat up on small countries which couldn't stand up to you and your big brother; you got to drive around in flash cars.
