Boris Johnson (coincidental) pounced on his staff.
He whipped away a suitcase laced with wine
And charged for the front door.
"I'm off to me lions!" he slurred, pointing in the vague direction of Nelson.
Backbenchers tugged on his belt as he hauled himself towards Trafalgar Square.
Trousers tumbling to his ankles.
Union Jack boxers barely covering his crack.
Chubby middle fingers casting shadows down The Mall.