"No more questions" said the Tomas Crowd, a grey haired sensible giant of a man, wearing an astronomically expensive suit, who had just given the worst press conference of his life. He worked in sanitation, and despite there being a massive fuck up, which everybody could smell, he was told minutes before hand that he couldn't mention shit in any form.
"I can still say sewage though right?" he had asked the publicist, a small blonde lady who was curiously always wearing power suits straight out of the 80's directly before he went out to face his pressdoom.
"I'm afraid not" said Janine "The PM has asked that we play this down to the extent that we pretend it's not happening at all, so any mention of any sort of waste product must be avoided so the papers have nothing to quote".
"If we're pretending this didn't happen, then why are we giving a press conference about it? You don't give press conference's about things that didn't happen. What am I supposed to talk about?" said Tomas, while furiously speed reading his notes to double check if he had miraculously been handed a speech which talked about something other than the foul stench he was somewhat responsible for.
"Just reassure the public that nothing out of the ordinary is going on, and that no significant problems are occurring at the moment. That way, no matter what happens, we can later on claim that nothing in fact did happen, as no-one ever admitted that it actually did". Janine had said these lines surprisingly often and in an even more surprising number of situations, but they generally seemed to work somehow.
"There is actual shit on the streets of London right now though Janine, and no amount of me denying that is going to stop it from being true. People can see it with their own eyes and smell it with their own fucking noses. There are videos' and pictures of it on the internet, so I can't deny it, because it's really fucking happening and everyone can see it for themselves. How do I spin that into 'business as usual'?" said Tomas infuriated, taking a breath only once he realised he'd done air quotes around "business as usual", because he hated air quotes, just like every good Englishman.
"Make a joke out of it Tom" Janine interjected while Tomas was scowling at his fingers, "Say someone from the opposition must have eaten too much... or better yet, say they had their party conference in a curry house! Yes that might play. Say the smell comes from the stench of the opposition's policies. Now off you go, time to grin and bare it". Janine gave Tom a gentle push through the curtains and heard the camera's start clapping.
Tomas took the podium and grinned for moment while the flashes went off unnecessarily. "The leader of the oppositions flatulence has created a smell so bad it has created a stink cloud over all of London. The sanitation department is operating as per usual, with no significant issues to report. Thank you for your time." Tomas turned to step off the stage quickly, but one lone question rang out before he could...
"Isn't it true that your party had it's conference at a curry house, and now the shit that makes up your policies is clogging the streets?" a reporter said with a half-grin on his face.
With his best shit-eating grin stuck to his face, Tomas turned back to face the reporter, and pretend to be amused by the question. "More like the oppositions....conference....and bad policies....are stinking.... oh fuck it. The shit on the street is literally your shit. It's the public's shit. It's everyone's shit, and there's nothing more to be said about it. We're cleaning it up, even though we didn't shit it out in the first place, so be grateful and fuck off. Fuck this shit. No more questions."
Tomas walked out of the curtains, took off his tie and gave it to Janine, who was on the phone apologising to someone. "Fuck this shit" Tomas thought to himself. A smile crept on his face, and he started laughing. "That was the worst press conference I've ever given, but then possibly the best resignation speech of all time" he thought. Things were looking up for the former master of poop, Mr Tomas Crowd. He stepped out onto the street, and pinched his nose and thought "Fuck this shit indeed".
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