It used to be that when the President-Elect became clear, in the United States, I would give them a call to congratulate them and they would ask for my sage advice on worldly matters.
Last night I gave Mister Obama a call and was told he "was a bit busy and would call me back later".
I decided to go for a walk along the seafront. There were fireworks going off all over the place - but that is not unusual now that every night is Fiesta Night, here in the village.
Beaver was also taking the air that night and I must admit I eavesdropped on a mobile telephone conversation he was having.
"Listen Barack, me old mate, yeah redistribution is fine but you gotta relax the old rules and regulations - let people have a bit of fun in these hard times. No need to tax the old hedge funders - look, thats why they come here. To get away from the taxes innit. But then I just fleece 'em in the old Gambling Hall don't I? There's more than one way to skin a cat you know? They can't resist a bit of a gamble - you just got to fix the game, mate...."
I could bear to listen no longer. Are there no standards left?
My stand against Beaver, my refusal to leave the village, does, however, seem to have increased my celebrity status. As I walked back home I got a phone call from a Mister Steven Moffat inquiring as to my availability next year to assume the starring role in a popular television drama."Change, my dear, and not a moment too soon. Perfect timing - I need a new direction." I said to Mister Moffat.
Apparently rumours abound about my taking this role - you can read a tabloid newspaper's so-called exclusive by clicking on the image below.
But I have had second thoughts. Now is not the time (excuse the pun) to desert the villagers.I thanked Mister Moffat for the offer - but I really need to stay in the village for the sake of its citizens.
Also, I only ever act in my own work, or that of the great playwright Mister Ernest Wiseman.