Kinder, gentler MPs

Satiricus was pleased. In fact, Satiricus was pleased as Punch. Satiricus had read where the gentle and urbane Speaker of the House had chastised MPs from both sides of the House for using quite unbecoming language in the hallowed halls of Parliament.
He exhorted them to use kinder and gentler words. Were they not all honourable men? Then there was his predecessor. An even more gentle and urbane (if that were possible) man, who after being nastily and brutishly attacked, merely picked up his briefcase and walked away. A man who always showed the other cheek. This worthy also railed at the crass and attacking language that was being bandied about – even at functions where ladies were present. He too pleaded for our politicians to use more refined language in their exchanges.
As Satiricus swung away in his hammock at his back veranda, he fell asleep humming John Lennon’s “Imagine”: You, you may say/ I’m a dreamer, but I’m not the only one/ I hope someday you’ll join us/ And the world will be as one Imagine no possessions/ I wonder if you can/ No need for greed or hunger/ A brotherhood of man/ Imagine all the people sharing all the world.”
He began to dream…. “I say, old chap, how are you?” said GreenBridge as he sauntered over to where Admiral (Retd) GrainJa was standing with his plate heaped Roraima-like with food.
They were at Parliament Building during a break in sessions.
“Top of the world, my dear GreenBridge,” replied the Admiral (Retd) as he deftly popped a barbecued chicken leg into his mouth. “I understand you just came back from old Blighty, have you?” The admiral wiped the side of his mouth daintily with the back of his hand all the while smiling and looking down at GreenBridge.
GreenBridge paused to swallow the prime rib he’d just bitten into before replying. “Just popped over for a quick visit with the family to do some shopping. With this Budget Debate starting, I had to pick up some suits, shirts and ties from Oxford Street and Saville Row.”
“Really, my dear boy?” said the Admiral (Retd), picking off fluff from GreenBridge’s suit collar. “I have my shirtjacs sewn in Hong Kong, you know.”
“So you’re not upset that I missed the meeting with the minister, are you?” asked GreenBridge, while he sipped some coffee with his pinky stuck immaculately out.
“Dear me! Whatever gave you that idea, old chum?” chuckled Admiral (Retd) just as he bit into a piece of quiche. “Scrumptious, isn’t it? We can’t wear the same shirt twice in a row, can we?”
“I’m so glad you said that!” gushed GreenBridge.
“That’s exactly what the Founder-leader taught me! I thought you military types might have different ideas, you know.” He took a cheese-and-cherry hors d’oeuvre from a passing waiter.
“You bounder, you!” chuckled the Admiral (Retd), giving GreenBridge a rub on his grizzled head, “ Have you forgotten the Founder-leader made himself a general and had his uniform made in Saville Row?”
Satiricus woke up with a start. His wife was screaming, “Is whe dis so-and so man, hiding?!!”