I am Prime Minister Tony Blair. Whilst sitting in a limousine in Muirend, I lose a game of Truth or Consequences. My forfeit is to walk into a house and sing a song. I walk into a house of party faithful, which seems already to have guests, enjoying a genteel cup of tea. Clutching a maroon-towelling bathrobe-belt, I manage to sing the words, "My heart is under my left lung," before dying of embarrassment.
I, along with everyone else in my old year at school, am sitting a Politics exam. The exam is taking place in an enlarged, old gym-hall at Netherlee Primary School, and the desks are arrange in groups of eight. Confusingly, the whole paper is multiple-choice, and there is a question one on every page of the answer-book. This compounds the fact that everyone is winging it, since nobody has studied Politics in the last year.
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