The Long Road Back

In his final column for the Onion Bag, Il Duce Silvio Berlusconi celebrates his return to power and plans his next move.

"Incoming message My Duce." Pipes up Lieutenant Pippo. "It is Colonel Fabio."

Ballot stuffing

"On the viewing screen at once." Pippo obeys my command and Fabio's chiseled features shimmer into existence before my eyes. "Welcome Colonel. What news from London."

"Congratulations on your victory My Duce." He says prevaricating. "Did you get my votes?" I smile benevolently. My Colonel is one of my most faithful servants. "Yes my friend. All twenty seven of them. But don't tell the electoral commission eh?"

Should 5% appear too small

Fabio frowns. "Why would I do such a thing My Duce? I have enough problems with the Taxman as it is." I sigh, exasperated. My Colonel is well known for his shriveled funny bone. "Never mind that Colonel. What news from London? What news of Sheva?"

"My sources tell me the Russian Whore is miserable My Duce. Every night he cries himself to sleep. Why only yesterday, my agent, Lampard told me he sobs every time his text machine goes off and it is not you welcoming him back your delicious bosom."

"Lampard has done well." I reply as I relax into my throne ('just relax and it will come Duce' my doctors tell me). "Inform him I will cover him with gold should he join my beautiful warriors in Milan… as I will to you Colonel when you are restored to me. Until then… dismissed"

Mediaset & match

His image shimmers back into the ether. I am a busy man and much readjust to the heavy burdens of state. First order of business: Revenge over those who smited me. Second: New laws allowing me to buy national state television and radio. Never again must the people of Italia be so undecided about what is good for them.

Yes, they cannot keep this old dog down. I could teach some of those so-called dictators a thing or too about statecraft. That reminds me. Veronica, where is my Mugabe? I wish to flatter myself.