By nine, he’s stumbling into his ensuite for his first night-time widdle, but tonight he hears someone knocking from behind the bathroom mirror. He turns on the light to see a bright-eyed 2018 version of himself staring back, cheerfully announcing the launch of his first app. “The Digital Secretary of Christmas Past,” he gulps, before waking up in his bed to the sound of his phone ringing.
“Thank God,” he whimpers. “Okay, it was just a dream.” He grabs for his phone and sees an incoming FaceTime from none other than Nadine Dorries.
“Matt, you embarrassing little twerp,” she grins. “I’m at the Christmas pub quiz at the Lord Moon and need your help. I’ve forgotten again, what’s Channel 4?”
“I thought the party was cancelled?!” he cries. “Ask Boris not to ask any more questions until I’m there, please. I’m on my–” He slips on his skateboard and bangs his head, and then wakes up in bed again. Another dream, then. “But what if they really are at the pub without me?”
Not long later, Matt steps out of his car and onto the snowy Whitehall pavement to be greeted by a sign for “The Horse & Guardsman”. “What the?” he utters, walking into a far more refined establishment than the Spoons he knows and loves.
One solitary patron sits alone at the bar. A hipster sort working away on his laptop under a thick mop of blonde hair and pulled-up black hoodie. Matt approaches the man and unhoods him.
“Oh, hello, Matt,” says Michael Fabricant. “I’ve just been told to prepare to become the new digital secretary. Do you like my OnlyFans?”