I fell asleep watching a debate on choosing a new leader to succeed the ousted Boris Johnson. My last waking thought must have been influenced by the candidates and their lively jousts. The whole performance reminds be of some ghastly game show, a combination of Strictly Come Dancing, I’m a Celebrity GMOUH, The Apprentice, and Love Island. There are the manipulated interactions, and the trap-door voting systems arranged by those sitting in judgement.
In my dream, I become a a game master involved in selecting from the various animated ingredients the on who would become the prime ingredient in my kitchen cabinet. The candidates are being invited to discuss their merits. Picture the scene, rather like a competitive toy story.
But Banana and Porridge Oats Two of my condiments, have also pulled out of the debate. I rather thought they believe they have done enough to demonstrate their superiority for the moment. That leaves Boil in the Bag Rice, Golden Shred, and the jar of Picked Onions to take part.
‘Why have they left?’ I asked.
‘Shows they have no confidence’ snorts Boil in the Bag Rice.
‘I regret the absence of Porridge Oats’ says Golden Shred. I would accept him in my plans. We have always got on well together.
Picked Onions cannot conceal a deep dislike of Porridge Oats. It’s hard to see any coming together between them: ‘Porridge Oats has shown unacceptable features. He is a cereal offender exaggerating his calorific values. I would never accept Porridge Oats into any bowl of mine.’
‘Let’s hear what Porridge Oats and Banana have to say for themselves’, I say, hastily.
Porridge Oats. ‘I will not demean myself defending accusations against my calorific values. I am well ahead of all others in consumer choices.
I show a clip of Banana interviewed about the withdrawal. ‘I will not resort to inter—consumable squabbles. I will bring the virtues of group harmony of my bunches of supporters. I already have the momentum going for me’
‘Some momentum,’ Picked Onion retorted. ‘When does a banana show momentum? Even your closest bunch members admit you were silent in the great bendy-banana controversy’.
The debate is beginning to reveal the deeper features of the participating condiments. Then I spring a surprise> I have a video line to the disgraced condiment, Sunshine Sultanas, sunning himself on a beach in the Bahamas. He is reason I am seeking a new leader in my kitchen cabinet. He is as blustering as ever.
‘While others falter, I have soared beyond the clouds into the realms of the Gods. I have brought back the secret of eternal conserve success. With my help, all of my fellow conserves are improved far beyond their sell-by date. I have returned to grace the breakfast table again.
He is a formidable conserve. I have to put him back on the shelf. I ignore him and ask the selected conserves a question. It tempts them to show they were never really comfortable with the effect Sunshine Sultanas had their performances with him.
‘Do you want Sunshine Sultanas to be part of future breakfasts you will be involved in?’
‘Any one of you?’
Pickled Onions. I have never been particularly close. We were always on different shelves.’
Golden Shred. ‘I am proud that we worked together, but I warned him about his illicit ingredients until I could not accept his company any more’
Banana. ‘This is not the time to discuss hypothetical matters of taste which might create condiment clash’
Porridge Oats. Sorrowfully. ‘He has got many calls right. He got breakfasts done. But his continued claim he had locked-up sunshine in his very fibre was not as I understand it. Sadly, I have already told him what I would do without him in future.’
Boil in the bag rice. Says nothing. Shakes his easy-pour opening sadly as if to say, ‘never again’.
I replace Sunshine Sultanas on the back shelf with other rarely-used members of the Kitchen community.
The search for the leader of my kitchen cabinet continues. I wake to find the leadership debate has concluded, and the television is screening Celebrity Gogglebox.
When asked by a pollster whom would I vote for as our next Prime Minister, I reply without thinking ‘I’d rather vote for jar of pickled onions’