Letters From London
Humorous Views on London Culture, Royals, Gossip and Politics
The Empty (Pressed) Suit - 12 June 2010

“Did ya get the order in yet?”

“No, Mr President. We discovered it would be much cheaper if we had them manufactured in

“Well do it! ASAP! Make sure they’re authentic. Minutemen armed with AK-47s. The shots heard
round the world.”

“No muskets then, Sir.”

“We want every Red Coat annihilated.”

“You mean Brits living in the US then, Sir?”

“Yeah. You’ll find a lot of ‘em livin’ in the West Village in New York. Take ‘em out. Get those
British Petroleum assholes out of our country.”

“But, Mr President. Twenty-five thousand are American and only ten thousand BP workers are
British. Thirty-nine percent are American stockholders and forty percent are British, Sir.”

British Petroleum! British Petroleum! We’re here to kick ass! So blow those British bastards
away. July 4th is coming and we want to celebrate big time. Mid-term elections. Time to make a
move. And no tea drinkin’ in the White House either!”

“Not even iced tea? I’ll inform the kitchen. But we got ‘em on the soccer field didn’t we, Sir.”

“Yeah. It was like watchin’ hyenas goin’ in for the kill. Surrounding the victim, goin’ for the neck.
Predatory perfection. Awesome!”

“Oh you mean pulling them by their shirts rather than their necks and doing a sorta group block.
A very American tactic, if a little creepy I must say. I just know we’ll be the World Cup soccer
winners, Sir, if we play like that. We’ll be soccer kings of the world. But will everyone know that
we are, Mr President? The rest of the world calls it football. You know, Sir. Foot plus ball.”

“It’s soccer to us, so it’s soccer. Got that?”

“Yes, Sir. It was like those angry bees I heard all through the game...all aggressive and angry.
But why then do they call it ‘the beautiful game’, Sir.”