Divertida parodia de fin de año

En FT, una divertida parodia en clave de tragedia griega, de la que ofrezco un trozo. AL final, Cammeron prende fuego al tinglado y salen todos corriendo.

ROME. Silvio Berlusconi is hosting his last bunga bunga party as prime minister. A throng of television personalities and showgirls surrounds him. Enter a slave.

Slave: The nurses’ uniforms are ready, master.

Berlusconi: Grazie. Here, Vlada, you’re good with figures. Answer me a question.

Vlada the Heart-Stealer: What is it, Papi?

Berlusconi: Why is the number eight so significant in my life?

Vlada the Heart-Stealer: Well, you once said you did eight of us in one night.

Berlusconi: Brava! But tonight that’s not what I have in mind. The reason is that there were eight traitors in my party who deserted me in parliament. My enemies are like bedbugs, advancing on me from all corners. They are biting me, they are gnawing at my sides, they are drinking my blood, they are yanking at my coglioni, they are digging into my backside! Now I must make the supreme sacrifice for the good of my nation. Now I must fulfil my destiny as the Jesus Christ of politics. Now the curtain will fall on the greatest premiership that Italy has known.

Vlada the Heart-Stealer: Come, come, Papi, no giving up! The thing to do is to find an ingenious way through.

Berlusconi: A way through? I only wish one would come to me.

Vlada the Heart-Stealer: Are you holding something?

Berlusconi: No, nothing whatever.

Vlada the Heart-Stealer: Nothing at all?

Berlusconi: Nothing except ... The Italian people know what I have done for my country. The restaurants, the beauty salons and the private jets are all full. I’m not finished yet. Mark my words, if my enemies think they can destroy my entire career, they will be sorely disappointed. I am the most persecuted man in the history of the world, but they will never get me.

Enter the Chorus of the Clouds.

Leader of the Chorus: Old man, we counsel you, if you have a successor, send him to us to learn in your stead.

Berlusconi: He’s called Mario Monti.

Leader of the Chorus: Can you make him obey you?

Berlusconi: If he refuses, I’ll turn him out. I’ve got the numbers in the Senate.

Vlada the Heart-Stealer: Eight?

Berlusconi (wearily): Not tonight, Vlada.

BRUSSELS. Angela Merkel, Nicolas Sarkozy and David Cameron are finishing dinner at a summit.

Merkel: What delicious cheese!

Sarkozy (to himself): That’s her second helping.

Merkel: You really should try some, David, it will calm you down.

Cameron: I tell you, I will not hold a referendum, I will not agree to a new treaty, I will not support a financial transactions tax, and I will not listen to lectures from that ventriloquist’s dummy of yours!

Merkel (producing dummy from her handbag): Oh, I think Herman’s rather sweet. (To dummy). Give us one of your haiku.

Herman Van Rompuy (speaking through Merkel):

The fiscal compact

Is agreed. But Belgium still

Lacks a government.

Merkel (puts dummy back in bag): We’ve been practising all week.

Sarkozy (fawningly): He has a most accommodating nature, Angela.

Merkel (pleased): Even when he was quite little, he amused himself at home with making horses, carving boats and constructing small chariots of leather. He had a wonderful understanding of how to make frogs out of pomegranate rinds.

Cameron: I tell you, I will not hold a referendum, I will not join the eurozone and I will not give money to the European rescue fund! (Sighs.) It was a lot more fun with Boris in the Bullingdon Club. Killing foxes with chilled bottles of Taittinger Brut ...

Merkel (to Sarkozy): You and I need to get down to business. So tell me the truth, Nicolas, was DSK set up?

Sarkozy (sweetly): As you have put it so eloquently, Angela, there is no Europe without the euro. (To himself.) Merde, she must have been gossiping with Carla.

Merkel: Well, that’s that, then, I’m glad to say we have an agreement. Europe will have a fiscal union in 250 years’ time, and I’ll have a bit more cheese.

Cameron: I tell you, I will not hold a referendum, I will not ...

Merkel (turning to Cameron): What, are you still here?

ATHENS. Merkel, Sarkozy and Draghi are playing cards in the House of Thoughts. The Chorus of the Clouds watches from above.

Sarkozy (pausing before he deals): What about your ante, Mario?

Draghi: Oh, sorry.

Draghi places a €10 note on the table. Sarkozy inspects it.

Sarkozy: The serial number begins with a Y.

Merkel: Mein Gott, it’s Greek!

Sarkozy: Throw it away.

Draghi: How can I? They’re still in the eurozone, you know.

Merkel: Tell me about it.

Leader of the Chorus: What a thing it is to love making mistakes! For this old Europe, having loved its mistakes, now wishes to withhold the money that it borrowed.

Sarkozy continues dealing.

Merkel (to the Leader of the Chorus): Why didn’t you warn us earlier?

Leader of the Chorus: We always do this to those whom we perceive to be lovers of mistakes. We precipitate them into misfortune, so that they may learn to fear the gods.

Draghi (folds hand): I’m out.

Merkel (aghast): You can’t be!

Sarkozy: It’s you and me alone, Angela. What’s it to be? Eurobonds or the end of the euro?

Merkel (to Draghi): I sometimes think he’s worse than Chirac.

Enter Cameron, running wildly.

Cameron: Oh, Europeans, do not be angry with me! Do not destroy me! Pardon me, I’ve gone crazy through babbling. Bring me a torch, someone!

Sarkozy and Merkel: In the name of the gods, what are you doing?

Cameron: What am I doing? What does it look like? (Cameron sets the house on fire.)

Merkel: You’ll destroy us!

Sarkozy: He’ll never destroy us. I’m raising you a million euros, Angela.

Merkel (slowly folding her hand): You’ve won this round, Nicolas. But I’ll win the war.

The House of Thoughts is ablaze.

Leader of the Chorus: Lead the way out, for we have sufficiently acted as Chorus for today.