RIP Berry Humphries

My Darling Rishi, my little treasure,

Oh, how I adore addressing you with such endearment! I trust this letter finds you positively radiant, my dear PM. It still sounds a tweed desperate to call you by a formal title. As I sit here in my humble quarters I simply couldn’t resist sending a few musings.

Let me take a moment to reminisce about our journeys to the Caucasus. Oh, the adventures we had! Those winding roads, the breathtaking scenery, and of course, your insistence on belting out “Lady Marmalade” at every karaoke establishment you fondled your way into. My dear Rishi, I must say, you simply must work on expanding your repertoire. A man of your refinement cannot live on “Moulin Rouge” alone!

Now, let’s get down to business, shall we? Your recent antics with the Assange case have left me positively aghast. It’s time to shake things up and show the world what my little treasure is made of! As Prime Minister, you have the power to dazzle and delight, I have witnessed you ooze across the stage with such granger, lest we forget Azerbaijan…

But enough about serious matters, my maniacal little treasure! Let’s talk about that charity gala, shall we? My word, Rishi, you were simply divine! Your charm and wit had the entire room abuzz, and let’s not forget that little undergarment mishap. Did you ever return that poor young man’s trousers?

Now, my sweet Rishi, I am not one to kiss and tell.

I fear there is only way to restore faith in our institutions, inspire trust in the hearts of the people. What do suppose we scuttle the whole Assange ordeal? It worked for Miss Gun why not here?

With all my love and admiration,

Dame Edna Everage