Jacob: That's all, I've finished!
Nanny: No you haven't, you naughty boy. Eat up your kippers.
Jacob: I ask the honourable nanny to note that I have never liked kippers.
Nanny: Jacob, you will eat those kippers or go to your bedroom!
Mogg at the breakfast table.
Jacob: Oh, all right, Nanny.
Nanny: There's a good boy. Now, Jacob, I want to have a serious talk with you. Are you still a Catholic?
Jacob: You know I'm a Catholic, Nanny! Didn't Helena and I go to Mass in the private chapel on Sunday? Didn't we take the children, all the way from big Prima down to little Quartus Decimus? Father O'Blimey said he was delighted to see us. And you were really good as an Extraordinary Minister of Holy Communion, Nanny!
Fr O'Blimey's sermon on "The best bits of Laudato Si'" fails to grip.
Nanny: Yes, all right. So perhaps you could explain why you are member of a government that is doing so many wicked things?
Jacob: Wicked things, Nanny?
Nanny: Yes. For a start you are trying to remove abortion restrictions in Northern Ireland. Fr O'Blimey says you can be excommunicated for that.
Jacob: Oh heck, that was Bozza's idea. You know Bozza - blond, unkempt, bit of a sex-maniac, but basically a good guy. He's my boss now.
Mogg's choice of anti-virus mask should have warned us.
Nanny: And now I hear that you're changing the divorce laws to make it easier to put asunder those whom God hath joined, or at least whom a spotty man in a grey suit in a registry office hath joined.
Jacob: Still, we did scrap one of Bozza's ideas, which was that randomly-selected people would be contacted by the Home Office and told "Surprise, surprise! We've just given you a divorce! From now on your registered address is the garden shed."
Nanny: It's not good enough, you know. Also the nation's Catholics want to go to Mass - even the bishops want to, and they're the last people you'd think of getting involved! Moreover, the Anglicans are missing the helter-skelters and crazy golf that their own cathedrals normally provide. And all you can do is witter on about needing a haircut!
The inside of the Mogg private chapel, St Mogg's.
Jacob: Can't the Catholics go to their private chapels, as we do? No, I suppose not.
Nanny: It's not good enough, Jacob. You're a naughty boy. What are you?
Jacob: A naughty boy, Nanny. Sorry!
Nanny: We had intended you to be the next Prime Minister but three.
But after this, my patience fails. Go off and govern New South Wales!*