‘HELLO, Jay Blades here – and welcome to this special edition of The Repair Shop. Our first visitor is Andrew, from Windsor. Now, Andrew, what’s that sorry-looking item you’ve brought us?’
– ‘Well, Jay, it’s my reputation. I’ve had it for many years – it’s something of a family heirloom – and I loved showing it off when it was all bright and polished. But now it’s horribly tarnished and falling to pieces. The sight of it is making my ageing mother quite depressed.’
‘I see. Let’s have a look at it. Hmm, it is pretty far gone. The credibility cogs are seized and the mendacity mechanism has worn out from overuse. You’ve tried to patch it up with an old Pizza Express box and covered it with a blanket denial, but the rot is still showing through. And what are those marks on it? They look like sweat stains.’
– ‘Well, er …’
‘To be honest, Andrew, I think it’s beyond repair. There’s a place in America where it could cost five to ten million dollars to try to fix it, but even then, you’d never get the mucky bits out. If I were you, I’d dump it and accept that you no longer have a reputation.’
– ‘Oh, dear.’
‘And our next guest is Boris from Westminster. What have you got there, Boris?’
– ‘Well, Jay, I inherited this Tory government a couple of years ago. It was running smoothly for a while, but now it’s in a terrible state.’
‘Oh boy, Boris, you’re not kidding, are you? What have you been doing with it? There’s a black hole where the finances should be, all its promises are broken, its population is locked down, its polling is dangerously low and its majority could collapse at any time. And what’s all that broken glass inside the main power unit? It looks like someone’s been having a party in there.’
– ‘Can you fix it, Jay?’
‘Possibly, but it needs someone who’ll look after it properly. Your best bet would be to hand it over to a friend or colleague you can trust.’
– ‘One I can trust? That might be a bit of a problem, Jay.’
‘Well, good luck, Boris. And now here’s a young lady called Greta who’s come all the way from Sweden. Greta, what’s that gigantic globe you’ve brought us?’
– ‘This is my planet. It’s overheating.’
‘Hmm, let’s have a look. Well, it’s three billion years old, but still spinning round nice and smoothly on its axis. The temperature feels okay to me and there are plenty of polar bears on the Arctic ice cap. I don’t think there’s anything to worry about, Greta.’
– ‘How dare you! Mr blah, blah, blah Blades! Off to Sweden back I go!’
‘Sorry about that, Greta. Well, look at this – a chap riding up to the workshop on a horse. Good day sir, who are you?’
– ‘Hi, Jay, I’m Pestilence, one of the four horsemen of the apocalypse.’
‘What can we do for you, Mr P?’
– ‘Well, I’ve got this rather cute little virus which has been doing a wonderful job of scaring the whole of humanity into needless panic measures and wrecking their economies. But it seems to be fading and really needs an overhaul to start terrifying people again.’
‘No problem, Mr P. Just hand it over to Mr Big Pharma there in that shady corner of the workshop. He’ll get to work on it straight away.’
– ‘Thanks, Jay.’
‘And finally, we’ve been sent this old cast iron statue by an anonymous viewer from Bristol. It’s been torn off at the base and immersed in salt water, but I think we could weld it together and clean it up so it can be put back on its plinth.
‘Hang on, I’m getting a message from the director. What’s that? “For God’s sake, don’t go there? Cut to credits …” And, er, it’s goodbye from the Repair Shop.’
