Hello, Mr Little can we rely on your vote? No

DAVID CAMERON, Paddy Ashdown and Neil Kinnock put aside party differences yesterday and turned up at a phone bank to make unsolicited calls aimed at persuading voters to stay in the EU. It was just my luck to be on the receiving end. There I was at my desk, staring at a blank wordface, when the phone started ringing off the hook. Normally, when I get nuisance calls I hang up immediately. You can always tell them by the irritating delay at the other end. But in this game you never know where the next few hundred words are coming from. So I played along. I don’t think they had the faintest idea who they were calling.

(Brring, brring . . .) Hello. (Silence) Hello? (Silence, click) I’d like to speak to a Mr John Richards, please. Who? Is this Mr Richards? No. I think you’ve got the wrong number. I’m so sorry, is that John Little? Close enough. Can I ask how you intend to vote in the forthcoming referendum on EU membership? What’s it got to do with you? This is Lord Ashdown speaking. You still owe me for nicking Call Me Dave. Sorry, not with you. The title of your book on David Cameron. I beg your pardon? Call Me Dave.

I thought your name was John. That’s what it says here. But I’ll call you ‘Dave’ if that’s what you want.

No. Call Me Dave. You must remember it. Your name was on the cover. That business with the pig’s head. It was all over the papers. Oh, I see. I think you’re getting me confused with Lord Ashcroft. Who are you then? Lord Ash-DOWN, used to be leader of the Lib Dems. You probably know me better as Paddy. It’s Paddy Pantsdown! (Embarrassed laugh) So what do you want, Paddy? Or can I call you Pantsdown? Certainly not. Lord Justice Leveson is a personal friend of mine. Just get on with it. I haven’t got all day.

Well, I was wondering if we could count on your vote in the referendum to stay in the EU. No, you can’t, Paddy. (Beep) I’ve got another call waiting. Goodbye. (Brring, brring . . .) Now what? Hello. (Silence) For crying out loud. (Silence, click)

Hello, good morning and good day. Would I be right, accurate and correct in thinking I’m speaking to, talking to, and indeed, addressing Mr Little Richard John? No, you wouldn’t.

Lovely, tidy, smashing. Now Mr Little, I’m calling, ringing and telephoning on behalf of the campaign to remain, stay and, indeed, continue to be a part of the European Union. What did you say your name was? Sorry, I didn’t. Rude of me, boyo. I am Lord Kinnock of Bedwellty. Have you tried incontinence pants? No, Bed-WELLTY. It’s in Wales, you know. I’d never have guessed. Look you, I haven’t got all day. You called me. And I still don’t have the faintest idea who you are. So I did. I haven’t always been Lord Bedwellty. I used to be

Neil Kinnock, saviour of the Labour Party. I thought the name rang a bell. Neil, how are you? I’m AAAAWWWLLLRIIIIGHHHT!

You should be. Didn’t I read that you and your missus earned north of £10 million out of the EU? And how much is your pension from Brussels worth these days . . ?

That’s not the point. Britain is safer and stronger in Europe, stronger and safer, and indeed . . .

You haven’t always thought that, though, have you? Some of us can remember you standing for election on a manifesto calling for an immediate withdrawal from Europe. That was before . . .

You became a European commissioner? And isn’t it right that if you criticise the EU in public, you could lose your pension? That’d cost you, what, 100 grand a year these days?

That’s between me and HMRC. Three hundred million jobs in Britain depend upon, rely on and, indeed, are linked to the EU.

Well it certainly worked for your family — and your mate Peter Mandelson. But what about the steelworkers in Port Talbot? Have you spoken to the local MP lately? What’s his name? That’s right, Kinnock. He used to work for the EU, too, if I remember correctly. Look, I didn’t make this call just so I could be kebabbed . . . Well, shove off, then, you selfserving Welsh windbag. (Brring, brring . . .) Not again. Hello? (Silence) For crying out loud... (Silence, click) OK, yah. Here we go. Do I press this button? Right, got it. Hello?

Oh, hi. Could I speak to — I’ve got it written down somewhere — Mrs Joan Littlewood? Who? Is that Mister Littlewood?

If you like. And before you ask, I haven’t been mis-sold PPI, nor have I been involved in an accident at work that wasn’t my fault and I’m not interested in switching my broadband provider, either.

Please don’t hang up. It’s nothing like that. My name’s David Cameron, but you can call me Dave. We were just talking about you. You were? Splendid. No need for

formal introductions, then. I’m ringing on behalf of the Remain campaign. Have you had our leaflet yet?

I posted it straight back to you. Me and a few million others. Never seen such a complete parcel of patronising garbage in my life. What a waste of nine million quid we haven’t got. But your Government thinks it’s important you know all the facts. Facts? Lies, more like. How stupid do you think we are? It’s vital we remain in a reformed Europe. Reformed? Don’t make me laugh. But we won’t have to join the euro.

We never were going to join the euro. It’s on the brink of collapse anyway. We’ll retain control of our borders.

You are joking, right? We can’t stop anyone from the EU settling here.

There will be tough new restrictions on access to our welfare system. No, there won’t. And, er... We’ll still be a province of a European superstate; we won’t

have any control over who can come and live here; most of our laws will continue to be made abroad by unelected, unaccountable foreign bureaucrats; we won’t be able to negotiate our own trade deals with the rest of the world; and we’ll still be banned from catching our own fish.

But if you vote Leave, no one will ever be allowed to travel abroad again; every industry in Britain will go bankrupt; hundreds of millions of jobs will disappear; the NHS will shut down; house prices will go into freefall; World War III will break out; and giant rats . . .

I was wondering when we’d get to the giant rats. Listen, Dave, you know what you can do with Project Fear and your ludicrous leaflet. The last time I was offered such a dodgy prospectus was when some shady broker tried to persuade me to buy shares in a dubious offshore caper in — where was it? That’s right, Panama. I’ll put you down as a ‘Don’t Know’ then.

Please yourself. But what I do know is that anything which Call Me Dave, Paddy Pantsdown and Kinnochio all agree on is guaranteed to be a total disaster . . .

Anything Call Me Dave, Paddy Pantsdown and Kinnochio agree on is bound to be a disaster