QUENTIN LETTS: Rachel Reeves resembled a sad, startled owlet. Heaven knows how this can be sustained…

They are all greeting Ambalmer’s art. In the emergency restructuring mode, workers’ advance passes through a renovated Rachel Reeves at a London health -centered event. At least we were told to be a chancellor. Madame Tussaud’s may want to check that one of the Waxworks has not made a runner.

Twenty -three hours ago, Mrs. Reeves was tremor in the joints. He was smiling now. And he’s smiling. The cheeks were two beach balls, the skin was tensioned and twangy as prophylactic latex. His teeth were blocked by a crazy smile. Even if Jellies looked lifeless in the sockets, his eyes wrinkled on the edges.

The poor creature went out as a warming artist for one of Sir Keir Starmer’s sparkling speeches, this time a 10 -year health plan. At least 25 percent of the prime minister was flapping his hands, reflecting at least 25 percent of hearts. ‘Fung-Tastic’ continued to say. Nobody is more ridiculous than artificial pleasure – maybe except for poor Rachel. It was very cruel to watch him.

Nurses, a medical facility, stood in a crescent behind the chancellor. They watched him with interest closely. If a patient goes tonto, it is always good for professionals to participate and horse syringes are always ready.

He made a two -minute speech. Houston, this is progress. There may not be 60 minutes in a budget yet, but there are months before that. It is a matter of getting to take it as it comes every time right now and to lack it with luck to the end of the week. On Wednesday, Stan Laurel could not run more than a few words without whispering. It was two minutes and a success. If they can save the bionic man, maybe the miracle can be repeated.

Delivery? Strange. But then it wasn’t exactly a fluent orator. “ It is great to be here today, ” he shouted, this terrible (scared?) He pushed the air by passing the teeth. He jumped too much eyebrows. He kept that smile by making some words about how proud he was about the ‘health of our nation’s financial’. Here’s an Ophelia was thrown into a Palladium choir line. Or imagine a beaten boxer in the morning after a fight, the caries hidden by the columns.

As he finished his explanations, there were persistent circles led by a few Partisan. He felt forced. Compelling.

The prime ministers and the chancellers made up the stunts from time to time to show that they did not completely hate each other. Gordon Brown and Tony Blair visited an ice cream minibus. Rishi altar and Boris Johnson went to a bar. Nevertheless, the opinion of Sir Keir and a damaged colleague on a health center counter aroused the concepts of a man who surrendered a friend to the local psychiatric ward.

Sir Keir was programmed to say that he was ‘locked’ in his chancellor. This was the line he said in his own speech and broadcast interviews. The health plan came with a document titled ‘Suitable for the Future’. She insisted that Mrs. Reeves was ready for work. ‘The next election and beyond’ would be the chancellor. This was perhaps more delusional than the rest of how we fixed the economy and how we were safe in the hands of ‘stable’ labor.

Towards the end of an event completely about optics, Sir Keir Avered: ‘I do not believe in the execution politics. I don’t believe in rhetoric conversations that have nothing to support them. ‘This was said with usual enormous self -esteem. He really thinks that he is very good in being a prime minister. However, as the most unaccounted, voters seem to see it as a steam DUD.

He and Mrs. Reeves had a strange embrace. The cameras caught their face, still overflowing of unhappiness, looking up, pop eye. The so -called assurance pilot of the financing of our country looked like a sad, scary Owlet.

Paradise knows how it can be sustained.