Even before I was seated, the quick talking Mr P began barking out the rules I had broken. My head was spinning I couldn't keep up with him. That man talks so fast he was twisting my melon. Then Cllr H took over. So secret and confidential were the papers I had leaked that he insisted his wife turn her back to him whilst he was reading them in bed. Bugger me I thought this is serious shit!
Then Ms McG raised her finger. The room instantly fell silent. In a hushed, slow and deliberative tone she said "You have been a very a naughty Councillor and you must be punished severely for breaching the Council's standards code". She paused for what seemed like an age. Just like Michel Roux Jnr during a Master Chef eliminator. My sphincter twitched uncontrollably. I serioulsy feared losing control of my bowels and bladder. Beads of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. My reactions reminiscent of a Friday night vinadloo at at the Cinnamon Spice. If only I had drunk 8 pints of larger perhaps I could have borne my chastisement like man.
My heart was pumping hard, I was trying to focus. How do I get out this mess? What can I do? Then it came to me! As quick as a flash! In a trembling, nervous voice I said "I know the identity of the mysterious Painter of the Great Wall of Ramsgate". In an instant the confident demeanour of the Gang of Three was replaced by decidedly Green complexions. Cllr H looked gutted like sad drunk propping up a sleazy bar in downtown King Street. Wise-cracking Mr P, was silent for once. The fire in his eyes replaced with Pooles of emptiness. Ms McG cast her eyes round the room desperately seeking divine inspiration like the prophet Ezekiel by the Rivers of Babylon.
"Councillor Driver" she said, "on this occasion the Council intends to take no further action"