YOU SHOULD HAVE THOUGHT of THAT

Scene: A Council Flat, North London
Time: Evening, Friday August 5th 2011

Chav Jr: See you later, Mum.
Mrs Chav: Where are you off to at 7:00 o’clock at night?
CJ: Going to see my mates.
Mrs C: Oh no you’re not. And put that hood down.
CJ: Aww, why, Mum?
Mrs C: Because I say so. And you don't want to risk being hugged by David Cameron. Sit down here with me.
CJ: It’s not fair.
Mrs C: I dare say. But you’re not going out now. I heard it rumoured that a man has been shot dead by the police. There might be trouble.
CJ: I was only going to sit in the precinct with my mates.
Mrs C: Sit in the precinct? Why can’t you join a youth club or something like that?
CJ: The council just closed down the youth club.
Mrs C: Why, wasn’t anyone going there any more?
CJ: No, lots of kids did but they said the funding was cut.
Mrs C: Well, never you mind. I don’t want you getting into trouble. There might be looting. You have to think about that in case it happens.
CJ: What’s wrong with looting? The Secretary of State for Education looted £7,000 from the public purse, part of it paid to his mother-in-law, plus he claimed £500 each night for hotel expenses when he was moving between his various homes trying to decide which one to flip.
Mrs C: Didn’t you learn anything at school? There’s one rule for the rich and one rule for the poor. That’s Lesson One in life. Anyway, Mr Michael Gove admitted he shouldn’t have claimed for a cot mattress and promptly surrendered the cost of that, so he’s repaid his debt to society.
CJ: So if I get into trouble, will I get a second chance?
Mrs C: of course not. That only applies to media people like Mr Andy Coulson. And parliamentarians like Mr Peter (now Lord) Mandelson and Mr David Blunkett and Mr David Laws. Don’t you know anything?
CJ: It’s not fair.
Mrs C: No, it’s not. But you can always change it by voting for the Labour Party at the next general election. Now, come and sit here and we’ll watch Celebrity Who Wants to be a Millionaire?
CJ: Aww, Mum. Do I have to?
Mrs C: Don’t you want to see whether Katie Price and Lord Sugar can become millionaires? You are an ungrateful child.
CJ: Aww, Mum.
Mrs C: Oh dash it. I’ve run out of Evian. Here’s some money. Run to the corner shop and get me a bottle. Come straight back.

The same. 6:00 hrs Wednesday August 10th 2011

The front door is smashed in and two dozen armed police in full riot gear swarm into the flat, followed by camera crews from the BBC, ITV, Sky News, Al Jazeera and IRIB Tehran, followed at a safe distance by the Chairman of the Local Council who carries an aerosol.

Mrs C emerges from her bedroom in her dressing gown.

Mrs C: May I help you, gentlemen?
Cop: It’s Ms to you, scum.
Mrs C: I’m so sorry, Ms. Your face is masked, so I am unable to determine your sex. Also, your identity number is covered, as it was in the case of the policeman who pushed over Ian Tomlinson. There’s no need for anonymity here. We did not install CCTV because Tory MPs feel that there is too much intrusion into people’s lives.
Cop: Where’s the terrorist?
Mrs C: I am so sorry, I fail to understand you.
Cop: Shut the fuck up, scum. Bring out the kid or we torch the place.

CJ enters in his pyjamas. Ten cops wrestle him to the ground and handcuff him. The Council Chairman steps forward, giving the room a quick spritz with his aerosol.

CC: Mrs Chav, I am here to serve upon you this eviction notice. You have three minutes to evacuate the premises.
Mrs C: I confess I am a little surprised at this turn of events. I believe our rental is fully paid up.
CC: Mrs Chav, this feral rat that the police have so bravely apprehended looted the neighbourhood on Friday night. His image is reproduced on a poster twelve feet high in city centres across the globe. He’s looking at a minimum of twenty years without remission.
Mrs C: Is this true, son?
CJ: I picked up a bottle of water lying on the street. It was sealed and no one seemed to want it. I brought it home to you. I was back in time to see Joey Barton win a million pounds on the television.
Mrs C: It’s true, he was gone barely twenty minutes.
CC: Society needs to be protected from scum like yours. And it requires blood.
Mrs C: I’ve just remembered. Son, you never gave back the cash I gave you for the water. What did you do with it?
CJ: I sent it to the DES appeal for the starving in East Africa.
Mrs C: Fiend! Do with him what you must, officers. He may be only nine years old but he knows right from wrong.
CC: What a pity that he forgot on this occasion.

The cops leave, dragging CJ with them.

CC: Incidentally, the door to this flat is a disgrace. It doesn’t even shut properly. You’ll have to pay for that before you depart to seek a position on the street.
Mrs C: Thank you, sir, for pointing out the error of our ways.
CC: That, my dear lady, is what public service is all about.