*John flicks through the papers downstairs while he tries to drink his coffee.*

*Damn the Telegraph all the way to Hades! he thinks. That is not and has never been my intention...*

*He rubs his eyes.*

*The story doesn't seem to be going to far at the moment - and no one bar a few unconnected users on Twitter are calling for his resignation, according to Sally - but... it's expenses. It's the whole reason he got the job in the first place! If there's one issue above all he has to seen to be perfectly clear on, it's this.*

*He takes another sip of his drink.*

*He was only doing what he thought was right - the original Ipsa report included information that could have resulted in the general public discovering the home addresses of Members of Parliament, something which is illegal. He sent a request to Ipsa to have that very specific information redacted, not to have the whole report pulled! And now he's the one being named with expenses fiddling and a cover up when he'd done nothing wrong.*

*John sighs. There's only one thing for it...*

*He refolds the papers, picks up a bunch of painkillers and leaves his coffee on the side to head down to Peter's cell. He places The Telegraph on Peter's bed, the page with his name, expenses and broken promises open on Peter's lap.*

I need your help, Peter.

*It's the charity swim tomorrow and as much as John tries to relax, he can't. With over £2500 of donations on his webpage already, he can't afford to mess this up. He contemplates going to another swim, getting in some last minute training, but decides against it; all the advice he has been given and actively sought out told him that would be the worst thing for him to do today.*

*John sighs. A healthy does of pasta and vegetables for dinner followed by an early night and then he would be ready. He just had to make it through the rest of today, preferably relaxing.*

*He thinks that, perhaps, his relaxing will be aided when Vince arrives. The other man is usually a calming and reassuring presence, and John hopes today will be no different. Midway through the conversation, however, Vince compliments Peter on his research and suggestions for alterations to the cure potion, a few of which Vince hadn't caught when doing him own assessment. John, confused, asked for more details. He discovers that the day before, Vince had received a number of pages from Peter suggesting better ways to achieve some of the potion's outcomes - something that, evidently, had taken Peter a great deal of researching to conclude.*

*Distracted for the rest of the conversation, John eventually says goodbye to Vince.*

*How in Merlin's name had Peter been able to do all that research? It was a question that needed answering and so John made his way to Peter's cell once more.*

I suppose I deserved it...

I said I'm sorry, Peter!

*Crawls out from under a pile of sofa cushions that have been thrown across the room*
*Takes party hat from last night off head*
*Looks around at all the destruction - burst balloons, party poppers and paper chains hang from every surface*

Urrrggghhhhhhh...

*Drags self up and through to the kitchen to get a glass of water and painkillers*
*Tries not to vomit as the smell of last night's alcohol and attempts at drunk cooking reach nose*


Hhhhgmmm....

*Leans head on hands and tries to remember what happened last night*
*Bits and pieces of previous night slowly return to memory*

...Peter.

*Comes back downstairs from putting children to bed*
*Logs onto computer*
*Checks Sally's Twitter feed*

...

*Heads off to kitchen to get self a glass of wine*

My personal feelings have absolutely nothing to do with this and, as per usual, I will do what is in the interest of Parliament and the nation as a whole.

Be that as it may, certain other rumours are true to an extent, yet I will not have anything to do with them.

Why, Sally? Why?!?!?

I will be going into hiding back on holiday for a while.

Why, Sally? Why?

From today's Independent:


Good Lord, could it be any more obvious? I just hope the characters aren't called something as equally transparent, such as "Alistair Campble" or "Quenton Lotts"...

I was perfectly aware that Sally was in the process of writing a book, but... but... that's what it's about?! It's little wonder she wouldn't let me read it. Westminster Spouses, well I mean really Sally. I know the phrase is "write about what you know" but honestly, couldn't you use just a small amount of creativity and write about anything other than Westminster?

Please, please let the fact that Crick got the identity of the cloth covering her modesty wrong be a sign that the rest of the article is just as false.

Peter, is this really your best attempt at an April Fool's joke, or did you just get drunk and try to prank call the office again, hmm?

Very poor show indeed.

Oh, and according to Quentin Letts in The Mail, I'm the third most annoying MP, thank you, with Mr Balls and Ms Cooper occupying the top two places.

I have been a bit odd lately - being happy and acting in a competant manner and so on - and Sally has managed to stay out of the spotlight recently - that successfully small interview, refusing to publicly comment on the book - maybe I should get her a gift...

Oh, maybe I could get an Eddy Stobart lorry named after her, I know she'd like that...

5 year waiting list, hmm?

Well, I suppose I could put her name down on the li-

...She wants one as a memorial?

A little unconventional, but I suppose we could always put it in the wi-

...And the suggestion results in crude innuendo. Marvellous.

That thing is not a 'top clip' nor is it 'genius'.

The book has turned up. Time to go through the blasted thing and correct all that's wrong with it, I think.

At least the second extract isn't quite so bad.

If the extract is anything to go by, that bloody biography is going to be humiliating.

More so today than ever it seems.

First, The Mail come out on my side of a dispute in the Commons, then there's that GQ fake obituaries thing about Peter and now The Guardian's gone quite disturbingly mad.

Peter, you didn't, perhaps, miscalculate something, did you?

If I catch anyone humming a certain song, I can assure you I will be most displeased. Peter, I'm looking at you in particular, since I know you're so fond of said song and even occasionally sing your own version of it.

Not. A. Peep. Got it?

Why won't my sofa bed turn from a sofa into a bed? What did you do to it?!