#BlogBattle, Stories

#BlogBattle: A Policy Shift

Photo by Donald Tong on Pexels.com

A Policy Shift

The busy looking woman with the clipboard and headset pointed at everyone in turn with her pen and asked ‘Ready?’

An affirmative ‘Yes.’ and thumbs-up signal followed her question to the assorted directions in the semi-darkness around her and one of the cameras seem to nod up and down too. There’s always a joker thought Rosalind.

She made tick marks against her checklist on the clipboard as she went and and then touched the microphone button on her headset.
‘OK gallery, studio floor ready, you can get John and the body in now.”

There was a clanking noise, then a raised platform with two leather and chrome chairs facing each other illuminated in a bright pool of light, ringed by the set and closely flanked by the cameras. The set up was designed to impart the feeling of an interrogation taking place. Rosalind knew that it was just part of the illusion. Television specialised in illusion.

Three minutes passed and the studio clicked and hummed as if it was quietly expectant itself. One of the cameramen started to whistle ‘Why are we waiting’. There was a munching sound from behind the other one.

Then a doorway opened in a wall and in walked the body, studio slang for the interviewee, accompanied by a small bald man in a grey suit, reading out his own checklist from a tablet device.

“…and if any difficult economy questions come up, remember, deflect, it’s a question that they should ask the Chancellor, etc, etc, …” he was saying as he bustled along, skilfully avoiding the cabling lying in wait on the studio floor by some genetic slapstick avoiding sense.

John arrived, momentarily silhouetted by the light which poured in from a doorway that suddenly appeared in the opposite wall and then disappeared again. He wandered insouciantly over to one of the chairs and sat down. He looked sharp as usual, dark suit and handsome. Rosalind tried to still her fluttering a little and she breathed slowly and deliberately to regain her control. Don’t be stupid, she thought, he’s 80% Hugo Boss fragrance… they must put something hormonal in it.

There was something else about him today that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. Happy? Satisfied? A sort of mixture of the two? She thought there’d probably be a German word for it.

She leant over and whispered in his ear “You’re meant to wait for her to sit down first.”

He looked up at her, smiled.
“Not today.” he said.

The buzzing of bodies like busy bees across the studio floor seemed to rise in intensity, as if perhaps an invasion of the hive was in prospect. Make-up people flourished brushes, sound technicians wearing headphones wandered about the place saying ‘One two, one two…’

Then suddenly they all disappeared as Rosalind’s urgent voice cut through.
“Opening credits sequence, 30 seconds… places… Live in 10…9…8…” and then she counted John in silently with her fingers…

John switched into presenter mode. “Welcome to Politics Live Talk,” he smiled at camera one.

“Today is a special one for our program. Number 10 has finally decided to answer one of our most asked questions, by actually allowing the Prime Minister herself to give an interview today. Welcome Prime Minister.”

“Thank you John, it’s a pleasure to be able to talk to you today.”

“We’ll see.” said John.

Rosalind quietly gasped a little. The Prime Minister’s face barely changed but one eyebrow twitched a little. Off-camera the Prime Minister’s little assistant took a handkerchief from his trouser pocket and started to squeeze it a little.

“You see, there’s been a shift in policy today.” John continued.

“Well, I don’t know about that John,” said the PM confidently, “After all, I’d be the first to know if there was one, wouldn’t I?” she asked.

“Not yours, Prime Minister. Ours.”

“I see John. But I’m here to talk about this Government’s achievements and how we are implementing what the people of this country want us to do next.”

“I know you are Prime Minister,” There was a trace of a smile on John’s clean cut face, “But today I’m going to properly examine what you say, instead of just letting your… untruths pass. I’ll be following up my questions you see. Until you answer. Properly.”

“We welcome examination of course, it’s the job of a responsible media to question what we do.”

“Yes,” agreed John, “You say that. But usually you ignore the question. You say what you came to say, even if it has no relation to the question. It has been the way of politics broadcasting for years. But not today. And we’re not leaving until I decide we’ve finished.”

There was a clunking noise from somewhere at the edges of the studio. John smiled.

The Prime Minister stared at John impassively for a moment, her gaze not betraying any thoughts. Then she looked towards where her little man was standing next to a camera, squeezing his handkerchief into a ball until his knuckles whitened, and raised a questioning eyebrow.

The little man shrugged.

“I’m sure the British people will be interested, I’m always very clear about everything.” she said.

“Yes,” said John “you are so clear you’re transparent. Due to not having any substance I think.” He smirked. “Remember, we’re live. You can storm off of course. On camera. They’ll see everything. Until the end.”

The Prime Minister looked imploringly at where her little man was moments ago but he was now running across the studio towards a door.

Rosalind jabbed at her microphone button urgently.
“Are we alright with this? Gallery! What’s going on? Hello? Hello? Should we cut to the emergency Flog It episode?”

There was nothing but a hiss in her headset.

The little man had now reached the door but was failing to open it.

“Yes,” John continued, now cradling a pistol, “So, Prime Minister, locked into a TV studio which is currently broadcasting live to the nation and with a presenter who will possibly be arrested for murdering everyone when your security gets in, here’s my first question…”

Rosalind fainted.

The above story is my entry into this month’s #BlogBattle for the prompt word of ‘Shift‘. Do pop along to read other BlogBattlers takes on the prompt word here.

17 thoughts on “#BlogBattle: A Policy Shift”

  1. Excellent, and bang on the money! There was a protest in London yesterday, 20,000 at Rolling Thunder, in support of Soldier F (Bloody Sunday). Regardless of how anyone feels about that case – it’s news, yet it’s not reported, everything was about NF and his Brexit Party

    Led by Donkeys have been phenomenal at holding politicians accountable, they are doing what our journalists aren’t

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Yep, I’ve been following them too, wry smiles and gut wrenching realisation of how a lot of our media is so afraid of being regulated more heavily (and complicit in the diversions) than actually being as thorough as they want everyone to think they are.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Oooh, this is great! I recently started watching Black Mirror, and this could easily be one of their episodes.

    You’ve built the tension really well in this piece. It’s very different in tone from the last couple pieces you’ve written, but just as well-executed. Well done!

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Thank you Sarah.
      Inspired by watching and listening avidly to the current political news and just seeing and hearing how little real questioning they’re given by ‘journalists’ (particularly the formerly hallowed BBC unfortunately).

      Liked by 1 person

      1. It is a very disturbing trend. We are seeing it in Canada, too. There seems to be very little objective journalism any more.

        Liked by 1 person

      2. And then we would get to wonder if the answers were true or if the interviewee was just saying what they thought would keep them alive the longest!

        It’s a very interesting idea. You could spin it a lot of different ways!

        Liked by 2 people

  3. This was a compelling read all the way to the ‘bang-up’ ending. The tension kept increasing and I was drawn in to what the heck was going to happen next! I may need a little education: When Rosalind ‘leant’ over, is that the British way of saying leaned over? And when she ‘feinted’ at the very end, was that a twisty pun about an evasive maneuver? Loved the story!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Ah… better not to ascribe any intelligence to my mistake with feints and faints… that’s just a mistake that I’m now slapping my forehead for.
      Yes, leant or leaned (in my vocabulary anyway, but I do have a tendency to be deliberately dictionarily-challenging to the little red wavy underlines, as regular readers will tell you…)
      Thank you for your kind comments.


  4. Applause, applause, applause! Loved that game-changing ‘We’ll see’.
    If only one of them had the guts to do this. I am not condoning or advocating hostage-taking, but something HAS to give. I see some interviews where the news host does pursue their question, quite vehemently, but to the point where they just keep interrupting the answer, so the interviewee is barely getting the chance to even speak. That annoys me just as much as avoidance of the question!

    Liked by 1 person

    1. The switch of power in a typical media interview situation was the aim… and I’m glad you appreciated where the balance swing was.

      I get just as annoyed as you about all of it. Interviews rarely tell us watchers much except the points the subject wants to spin and the hosts need to balance the appearance of ‘toughness’ with their future employability.

      Liked by 1 person

  5. ?random #2 brings me here. A fine piece of writing here, Bryntin! (I’d say ‘sir’, but I can’t tell if you’re a sir or a madam. I imagine by the photo on your Gravatar that you’re the former. Either that or you’re a small dog.

    Speaking of Gravatars, I should like to take this opportunity to point out a blog post of mine, from which you might perhaps benefit:



Leave a Reply to Losing the Plot Cancel reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.