THERE has been much criticism of the decision by Tory MP Nadine Dorries to take part in I'm a mediocrity, which began last night.
People have questioned the money involved, especially in these austere times. Which is why a solution is obvious. Why take MPs to the show, when it would be so much easier – and cheaper – to bring the show to the House.
It's easy to see how it would work. The first programme begins with Black Rod Stewart – geddit? (and what a coup it was getting the singer) – knocking on the door of the Commons which leads to panels in the wall parting to reveal a long, rough-hewn corridor down which tumbles a giant boulder consisting of masses of screwed-up order papers.
Loading article content
"Of course they're screwed-up," quips Dennis Skinner. "They're the Government's!" But the boulder stops just before the cameras to reveal the show's title on its surface: I'm in the Coalition – get me out of here!
The contestants pour into the chamber to take up their positions and discover what the first challenges are. George Osborne has to eat a boiled egg. "I've never seen a plover's egg this big," he exclaims. David Cameron has to chair a COBRA meeting. "Ha! No problem. Cabinet Office Briefing Room-" But no. We can all see this one coming. He really DOES have to chair a cobra, footage of which sees a massive spike on the show's website.
The commotion this causes is silenced by the Speaker (it's Ant) calling "Order! Order!" The MPs relax, until they realise it's really "Ordure! Ordure!" Too late. Dried kangaroo stomachs are tipped up on the edge of the Public Gallery causing a monsoon of live cockroaches and green ants to fall into the chamber. "First to eat three wins," calls Dec. A figure at the back belches, wipes his lips and says "One hundred and eighty!" It's Eric Bristow who's scoffed a whole stomach's worth!
Other challenges include waking up members of the House of Lords and budget defecating in the wild. For one veteran member of the House, it's a dream come true. With a cry of "Ahyeyeyaaaa!", Michael Heseltine swings across the chamber, clad in a loin cloth made from an old leather-bound copy of Hansard and clutching an ermine rope. "All those years of that bloody nickhame!" he yells, as he smashes through the window, out into the river and into the nation's hearts.