Howdy, pardners. It's Two Jags: The Musical
09:45am 11th July 2006
Richard Littlejohn
On friday, I wondered: "Did he have visions of spending the day lassoing steers, taming buckin' broncos, dodging arrows from pesky Injuns?" I don't know about the pesky Injuns, but it now emerges that lassoing cattle was precisely how Two Jags passed his time on a Colorado billionaire's Neverland ranch.
The Mail on Sunday reported that the Deputy Prime Minister galloped round the 32,000-acre spread on a thoroughbred stallion. He was kitted out in ten-gallon hat, hand-tooled cowboy boots and a solid silver belt buckle — $20,000-worth of gifts from his host, Philip Anschutz, who wants to turn the Millennium Dome into a Las Vegas-style super-casino.
You couldn't make it up. Say what you like about Two Jags. He may be an odious liability, but he adds hugely to the gaiety of the nation. Today, this column brings you The Colorado Kid: The Musical.
(Scene I. Two Jags strolls on to the porch of a Colorado ranch, his best girl by his side.)
Oh, give me a Dome,
Where the Hindujas roam,
And Reinaldo and Mandelson play.
Where roulette wheels spin,
The House always wins,
And millions are lost every day.
Oh, give me a horse,
And a Stetson, of course,
Saddle that fine palamino.
A belt buckle, too,
And a trusty lasso,
Now where did you want your casino?
(Scene II. Breakfast round the chuck wagon. A cowboy strums a guitar, to the tune of Oh, What A Beautiful Morning.)
Oh, what a ludicrous moron,
Oh, what a blithering clown,
Lock up your wives and your daughters,
Two Jags is coming to town.
(Scene III. Two Jags on horseback, singing along to Wandrin' Star.)
I was born in the wrong country,
I was born in the wrong country,
Should have been a cowboy,
Ridin' round the plains,
Rounding up them dogies,
Pulling on the reins.
I was born in the wrong country.
The wrong, the wrong country.
Do I know where Hull is?
Of course I bloody do.
Hull's for representin'
Not for going to.
I was born in the wrong country.
The wrong, the wrong country.
(Scene IV. In a tepee in the hills, Two Jags meets a tribe of Red Indians. To the tune of Running Bear, they serenade him.)
Oompah, oompah, oompah, oompah.
Oompah, oompah, oompah, oompah.
On the banks of the Humber,
Lived Cunning John, New Labour brave,
And he loved an English maiden,
Tracey Temple was her name.
They stole kisses in the office,
In a cupboard, when they could,
In his apartment in Westminster,
And his house in Dorneywood.
Cunning John loved Little Tracey,
Little Tracey, she too was keen.
But on the banks of the Humber,
Lived his darling wife Pauline.
Then one morning in the papers,
Was a photo of the pair.
Tracey hoisted on John's shoulders,
With her knickers in the air.
Little Tracey sold her story,
For two hundred thousand quid.
And from then on, John's new nickname,
Was the Chipolata Kid.
(Scene V. Two Jags leaning on a picket fence, humming The Ballad Of High Noon.)
Do not forsake me, O my Tony,
Please don't do anything you'd regret,
I know the deal you made with Gordon,
And that's not something I'd forget.
Howdy, pardners. It's Two Jags: The Musical
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Originally Posted by solypsist
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