He’s managed to avoid scandal after the almost definitely not true story broke about what he got up to with a pig’s head (I know we all really want it to be fact because that makes everything a little funnier but sod’s law comes into play in these situations). However, David is now courting disaster thanks to his unlikely and overwhelming devotion to former prime ministeress Margaret Thatcher.
She’s currently pushing daisies because we used to share a birthday and I was hardly going to allow anyone to pull focus from me on my big day (either that or she snuffed it because she’s not actually a robot. That’s another set of rumours that never quite came to fruition). Anyway, as people do once they shuffle decidedly off the mortal coil, she left one or two personal effects behind for the rest of humanity to paw through like the memento hungry dogs we are.
As current top bigwig of the country (we can all stew about it for now until the next election rolls round and someone equally unfortunate though a lot less shiny and looking as if they’re made of ham comes to power), David got first pick. Even before her children and surviving family because once you’ve been in office the government owns your soul for all eternity.
Such thoughts have absolutely never ever struck him before but David was suddenly overcome by just how attractive her clothes were. Were he to don these garments he would no doubt be immediately imbued with her vivacity and powerful leadership. They’d beg him to stick around for another term, and at least one more after that. He would be the most glorious of all iron ladies. Luckily (or sadly, depending on your perspective), cooler heads have prevailed in this particular instance and he’s back down. For now.