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In his humble opinion it was a great shame there were not enough political assassinations in the UK. Sir Arnold entertained a fantasy that The Prime Minister gets chopped by a Red Terrorist group. But it would not happen because he was totally unworthy of martyrdom. He deserved an unremarkable demise. But the fellow was so dead anyway, metaphorically speaking. Soon he would majorly embarrass himself in public and would be wiped out from the political scene, buried into the oblivion of his own unworthyness. The Prime Minister was making fun of The Cabinet Secretary in front of the whole Cabinet, while he really should have known better. The only one who did not laugh was The Minister of Administrative Affairs, because he was nearly deaf, and he would keep his job.

Sir Arnold decided to take a random walk in the city and dressed very low-key. The Cabinet Office security detail strongly advised against any such random walks, because his vertical ascent into the heights of power had made him too many enemies. Being afraid wasn’t his style though. Besides, he did not have any remarkable physical features and without bespoke suits and designer glasses he practically ceased being Sir Arnold and became some nobody. The metamorphosis was complete. He was no longer limited by his own self, he was no longer angry and saw everything clearly. Somehow life itself unfolded in front of Sir Arnold and it looked like a puppet theatre.

Something was happening. Some no-name opposition MP was agitating people. The contents of what he was saying was about jobs, pensions and other very typical topics, totally obvious to everyone with three braincells. Only the way he was speaking, filled with exhalated fire and zeal was special. He was so charismatic and hypnotizing that people were practically looking into his mouth. Sir Arnold had never encountered any politician like this before. The agitator was some yet undiscovered natural talent, who was born to be a politician. Prime-material actually. And best of all, he was totally unaware of his power over people. The agitator clearly had no clue whatsoever what it was that he was looking for, that would give his talents and life a purpose. But whatever it was, it was also clearly looking for him.