Just stole this.
Scene: Whitehall; fearing for his career (again), the health secretary begs advice from his boss.
...
Hancock: There’s been an uptick in cases boss. What should we do?
Cummings: We need a scapegoat.
Hancock: How about Starmer? We could call him a ninny?
Cummings: No that won’t work. God you’re useless.
*The Prime Minister enters*
Johnson: Look at me! Guys... guys... look! I can juggle!
Cummings: Not now Boris.
Johnson: But...
Cummings: NOT NOW!
Johnson: ...I just wanted approval... I just want.. my daddy’s approval..
*The Prime Minister exits; dejected*
Cummings: Why don’t we pin it all on that useless health secretary? Bring in somebody more mailable?
Hancock: ...that’s actually me, sir.
Cummings: ...
Hancock: But the Education Secretary... he’s really messed up recently. We could...
*Gavin Williamson emerges from behind a curtain; Hancock shrieks and dives under a desk, trembling; cowering*
Williamson: I know where the bodies are buried.
*Williamson descends, slowly, through a loose floorboard*
Cummings: Have we maligned any foreigners today?
Hancock (still under the desk): Yes sir. Quite a few, in fact.
Cummings: What about Brussels?
Hancock: Well... we could...
Cummings: I’VE GOT IT... young people.
Hancock: Young people, sir?
Cummings: We haven’t scapegoated young people in a while. They don’t vote for us...
Hancock: But sir... haven’t we just forced them all back to school and univers...
Cummings: DO NOT ANSWER ME BACK YOU FECKLESS WORM!
Hancock (hands over his eyes; sat, knees tucked up to his chest; rocking): Aaaah... s.. s.. sorry sir. You’re r..right! It’s genius! You’re a.. a.. a.. once in a generation m.. mind.. sir!
Cummings: God you’re useless.
*Michael Gove enters; slithering; eyes red; forked tongue flickering*
Gove: Dom, I’ve just put Borissss down for his nap. Who are we blaming for the rissse in cassssessss? Alssso, why issss Hancock under the desssk? You know what... never mind.
Cummings: Kids.
Gove: Perfect.
Cummings: We’ll say that their refusal to follow the rules is putting lives at risk.
Gove: Great! What about maligning foreignersss?
Cummings: We’re already on it.
Gove: Ssspectacular. Hancock, get up.
*Hancock scurries out from behind the desk, shaking*
Gove: Dom is WhatsApping Laura now. Get ready.
*Gove exits; his slime trail pops and fizzles behind him*
Cummings: HANCOCK... your lines are as follows: young people are disobeying the rules. The rules are simple and easy to follow.
Hancock: ...umm... in case I get asked... what are the rules again?
Cummings: I have no idea, but don’t worry, we’ll only give you to media stooges.
Hancock: Not Piers?
Cummings: No, Matt. Not Piers. Don’t worry.
Hancock: What if someone on twitter points out that you... you know... broke the... you know...
Cummings: play the culture war card. Call them a Remoaner, then dead cat the **** out of Extinction Rebellion.
Hancock: Yes sir. Really pleased we’re finally prioritising the lives of our elderly.
Cummings: You’re as stupid as they come, Hancock. Get out of my sight.
Hancock: yes sir... right you are sir... I’m the stupidest...
*Hancock exits; teary-eyed; quietly sobbing; still worried about his career. Cummings takes a long sip of his black coffee. It’s cold. He likes it.*
End.