Frackin' 'ell – that David Cameron's got a bit up top, eh? He may be a bit stuck up – but he ain't stupid. He's seen the writin' on the wall, he has – that's wot all this frackin' business is about. Come the next election, that other little twerp is gonna get in and it's game over. So now, he's come up with plan B. Make sure he's best mates with the oil companies, get chucked out at the election and – Bob's your real dad – a couple of nice little exec jobs to keep the missus in shoes will be just handed to him on a plate. That's what all this frackin' malarky is about. Give a bit of a back-hander to the councils to ignore the locals and there you go. They're so desperate for cash, they'll sell their own grannies to patch up the potholes. Course, the locals won't like it – but they don't like anythink, do they? 'Ave they all forgotten the 70s? You go to turn on the telly and there's half a chance of a power cut – no one wants that. They won't be too happy when little George wants to play with his iPad and there's no juice. Give him a cardboard box and a stick – that's wot I had and it never done me no harm. No, if they want cheap power, they have to put up with a bit of frackin', don't they? Supply and demand, innit? That Cameron bloke – I wouldn't mind his retirement package. And another thing...