GET your colourful paper hats on your sweat-soaked heids, readers, and prepare for the sketch’s annual Christmas party. There’s a vat of sherry on the filing cabinet there and … what’s that you say? Christmas parties have been banned this year again?

Oh, as you so rightly say, dear. Some inveterate sybarites can’t resist parties, though, even when the rules say: no. Rules, that is, drawn up by Her Majesty’s Government. But who, pray, would break such rules? Why, Her Majesty’s Government, of course!

Tuesday’s Mirror newspaper reported that, on December 18 last year, during lockdown, a Christmas party was held at 10 Downing Street. The paper said around 40 or 50 people were crammed “cheek by jowl” into a middling sized room.

The party was for “members of his [the PM’s] team”, though reportedly the PM himself wasn’t there, which was a shame as it was tempting to envisage him blowing bovinely on a party horn as he hoisted his bare butt onto the office photocopier.

But doubtless, instead, Boris Johnson was sitting at home sipping a cheeky wee Malibu while politely declining another of Carrie’s festive nut cutlets.

Yesterday, at Prime Minister’s Questions, Boris insisted all guidance had been “followed completely” at the time, which bilge he followed up by firing this foaming streamer at Labour opposition leader Keir Starmer: “Can I recommend to the right honourable gentleman that he does the same with his own Christmas party, which he’s advertised for December the 15th, to which unaccountably he’s failed to invite the deputy leader.” Well, we all know what Angie’s like after a couple of sherries: it’s scum this and Etonian that.

“Nice try but that won’t work,” said Sir Keir, but it did, mate. Unabashed, the opposition leader said the rules were clear: “You must not have a work Christmas lunch or party.” So, while regular, rule-abiding folks were banned from snogging their colleagues, “it was fine for him and his friends to throw a boozy party in Downing Street”.

Controversially, Boris riposted: “I have said what I have said.” Excellent point.

Sir Keir hollered: “He’s taking the British public for fools.” Well, it’s arguable, I suppose.

Later, the PM parped: “The right honourable gentleman drivels on irrelevantly” – difficult to drivel on relevantly, mate – “about wallpaper and parties”. Good name for a Morrissey album. Mr Johnson then stuck to the irrelevant theme of parties, averring: “By the way, I’m told that when the deputy leader and shadow secretary of state for the future of work was told that she wasn’t invited, she denounced it as idiotic, childish and pathetic.”

With no obvious link, we move on to the SNP’s Westminster leader, Ian Blackford, who spluttered elegantly about it being “deeply regrettable that, once again, we’re forced to spend so much time in this House discussing the Prime Minister’s misconduct”.

For some reason, this was greeted by raucous laughter. I had to check that Ian hadn’t left his flies undone. Perhaps it was his church elder’s tone or some private joke somewhere (“I’ve got photocopies of Boris’s butt from the party!”).

Mr Blackford insisted: “When the person in charge so blatantly breaks the rules, it needs to be talked about.” He added that he’d spoken to folk at the Mirror – dangerous move, bud – and they’d told him they’d been advised of potential illegality.

Oh, go and shove a deep-fried haggis up your kilt, thought Boris, according to my sources. But what he actually said was that Ian, like Sir Keir, was talking “total nonsense” and would have been better off highlighting the effects of Storm Arwen on Scotland.

At this, Mr Blackford started pulling frantically at his left ear, indicating that perhaps the PM had a hearing difficulty as he had in fact mentioned Storm Arwen.

“Well, I’m afraid if I didn’t hear it, he was drowned out by his supporters.” This was incorrect, as the House had quieted down when the SNP man said, “our thoughts are very much with all of those who are recovering from Storm Arwen”, though it’s fair to say he said it fairly quickly in the Scotch manner.

When Boris had finished havering, Ian opined: “Disgraceful answer,” Well spotted, sir. “The Prime Minister can’t even listen,” he added. No poop, Sherlock.

And there, alas, we must leave yesterday’s orgy of party-pooping, with the hope that decent, responsible citizens everywhere, in Scotland as in England, will resist the temptation to indulge in selfish sociable activities and not follow the example of our leaders who, let’s face it, cannot help themselves.

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