Entry 892
Thursday 7th March 2019
I spent the day canvassing with Mike in Newport today. Awful! Just awful!
The day started with Mike and I going around houses in the Newport, knocking on doors, visiting houses and trying to drum up interest for the KISSS campaign. It wasn't a very positive or productive experience. We knocked on a sh*t load of doors and tried speaking to people but they just didn't seem interested. When we knocked on the first door Mike and I were very smiley, very positive and rather bright eyed and bushy tailed. By the time we knocked on the last door of the day we were both feeling rather depressed and deflated.
The first door we knocked was answered by a stern looking woman who had a face like slapped arse. "What do you want?" she bluntly asked. Mike and I gave the woman a smiley grin and I went straight into my script. "Good morning," I said, "My name is Luke Warm and this is Mike Hughes. We're here to talk to you about the KISS campaign. Kill Infected and Stay Safe. We're asking everyone to vote soon, and the choice is simple; choose to change things and go with the QCUC campaign that will endanger lives, or... vote for the KISS campaign that keeps everything as it is and maintains safety and security. I..." "Let me stop you right there" the woman bluntly said, interrupting me, "I could not give a flying f*ck about all this voting sh*t. I'm still coming to terms with the fact that Coronation Street isn't on anymore. I mean I've got a load of DVDs of old episodes but I've watched all of them ten times over. The last time I watched Corrie, Kylie Platt had been stabbed. What's David going to do now? I'll never find out because of this bl**dy apocalypse and all these infected taking over." "OK..." I said, "So you're not interested in voting for either party?" "Unless you've got a way of bringing Corrie back, I couldn't give a toss," said the woman. "What about a Corrie substitute?" said Mike. I turned and looked at Mike with confusion on my face. "What do you mean?" asked the woman. "Yeah," I said, with suspicion, "What DO you mean?" "Well" said Mike, "We know that people are missing their soaps, so if you vote for KISS, we're considering developing an alternative to Coronation Street." "Really?" said a cynically suspicious woman, "What's it called." Mike gave me a sideward look as a short silence lingered. "Detonation Street," said Mike, "Life on an island that was about to be detonated. We might be looking for actors. You could audition and be in it." With my back to the woman I gave Mike an expression of shock and disbelief. "That sounds great," said the woman with a smile on her face. "So, will you be voting KISS?" asked Mike as he handed the woman a leaflet. "I certainly will," she said, as she took the leaflet from Mike. She then said goodbye, closed the door and Mike and I walked back out on to the street. "There you go," Mike with a big dopy smile on his face, "Easy." "What do you mean, easy!?" I exclaimed, "We're not going to make a new soap opera." "Yeah but that silly cow doesn't know that does she?" said Mike, "I said we were considering it. So, we've considered it and we've decided not to bother." "Mike, we can't try and win this election thingy by cheating. We have to stick to the rules." "Don't be daft," said Mike, "Rules are made to be broken. If people didn't break rules then there wouldn't need to be anyone around to enforce them. Rule breakers keep the police in a job. Anyway, I don't think there's been much clarity on what the rules are." "I don't think Blade is going to be happy if he knows we're lying to get people on side," I said. "Look babes," Mike said to me, "Don't worry. What Blade doesn't know, won't hurt him." "Just let me do the talking," I said.
Mike and I went to the next house. We knocked on the door and another woman answered. She looked less stern that the other woman but more suspicious. She was an overweight woman who answered the door eating a cream cake. "Good morning," I cheerfully said, starting my script again, "You're the bloke that was frozen," said the woman, interrupting me. "Yes, that's right," I said, with smiley grin, thinking that I was about to score some brownie points. "You took a sh*t on my niece," the woman bluntly said. There was an awkward silence. "Well," I said, desperately trying to improve the uncomfortable situation, "That was a while ago and it was all a big misunderstanding." "You're disgusting," said the woman in a rather disapproving tone. "Oi, leave him alone you fat cow," snapped Mike, "When you've gotta go, you've gotta go. If you spent more time pushing food out of your arsehole instead of shoving it in your cakehole you might not be so fat." "Mike!" I gasped. The woman frowned and slammed the door. I closed my eyes and sighed in despair. "Dirty little piggy," said Mike, "Calling you disgusting. I should pour petrol threw her letter box and torch the f*cking house whilst the chubby tubby porker burns to death." "Mike," I bluntly said, "Did I, or did I not just tell you to let me do the talking?" "She called you disgusting!" exclaimed Mike. "So!" I snapped, "Just let me deal with it. We're not going to get any voters if you call people fat cows." "Well, you didn't get her to vote," said Mike. "Just PLEASE let me do the talking," I firmly said.
As Mike and I continued canvassing I quickly realised that my smiley nice guy act wasn't getting me anywhere and it certainly wasn't securing many voters. "I'm cr*p at this," I said, going in a mood. "You're being too nice, babes," said Mike, "Let me take the lead on the next one." "I wasn't too sure, and I felt rather uncomfortable at the idea of Mike taking the lead on securing a voter, but we desperately needed votes so I decided to give Mike a chance. Big mistake.
Mike and I stood outside our next house. "Right," said Mike, "Is this the next one?" "Yep," I said. "OK," said Mike, "Wait here. I'll just be two minutes." Mike produced a lighter from his pocket and started to quickly walk off. "Whoa, hang on a minute," I said with a sense of urgency, "What are you doing? Where are you going? Why have you got your lighter out?" "It's OK babes," said Mike, "Trust me. Just wait here. I'll be back in a minute." Mike quickly dashed leaving me feeling suspicious and anxious. About two or three minutes later Mike returned and quickly ran up to me. "Come on! Come on!" said Mike sounding urgent, as he quickly ushering me up to the front door of the next house. "What's going on?" I asked. "Shush," said Mike. I noticed that he had whipped cream around his lips. "What have you got around your lips?" I said, "Have you just eaten something?" Mike then knocked on the door, took a step back and gave me a smile. "Just let me do the talking," said Mike. A second or so later the door was answered by a jolly yet nervous looking middle-aged man. "Hello," he said, "Can I help you?" "Yeah," said Mike, "Look mate, this is the deal. You heard about this daft b*tch who thinks we should care for infected?" "You mean Natasha Swann?" asked the man. "Yeah," said Mike, "She thinks we should look after the infected. We think they should all be killed. Who you gunna vote for? Us or her?" I noticed Mike leaning to his right and discreetly looking over the man's shoulder. "Well," said the man, "I just don't like the idea of anyone being killed. I think..." "Yeah, whatever grandad," said Mike, "Just tell us straight. Who you gunna vote for? Come on, hurry up." "Well," said the man, "I'm afraid I'll have to vote for Natasha." I followed Mike's eyeline as he looked over the man's shoulder and noticed that smoke was emanating from the middle-aged man's kitchen. "Jesus," I gasped, "I think your kitchen's on fire!" "What?" gasped the man, as he turned round and saw the smoke, "Oh my God. Oh no! I need to get my walkie talkie." "Oh dear," said Mike, doing his best to sound like he was shocked (which he clearly wasn't!) at the developing scene, but sounding completely fake, "What a truly shocking set of unforeseen and unfortunate circumstances." I gave Mike a stern stare and shook my head in anger and disbelief as the poor man desperately searched his living room for his walkie talkie. "Oh, I can't find my walkie talkie," said the man sounding panicked, "Oh, I'm sure I left it here when I was upstairs on the loo. Oh no, what am I going to do." "It's OK," I said, "We'll help you put it out," I said. I started to step forward but Mike stopped me. "Hang on," said Mike, "Listen Mister. It looks like you need our help. Well how about we put that fire out and you vote for the KISS campaign?" "Mike!" I exclaimed. "Oh, I don't know," said the man, "I mean I..." "Well I'd make your mind up quickly if I were you," said Mike, "Looks to me like you've got less than a minute before that entire kitchen is covered in flames." "Err..." said the man, flapping in desperation. "Probably got less than two and half minutes until your whole house is engulfed in a blaze of fire," said Mike, "We just need your vote, but it's your choice of course." The man continued flapping around as his anxiety and panic increased. "Oooh, those flames really sound like they're starting to spread," said Mike. "Mike!" I loudly exclaimed. "Fine!" the man yelled, "Fine! I'll vote for you. Now please help me! Please!" "You got it chief," said Mike.
Mike quickly entered the house and I followed. Mike kicked the kitchen door open and a whole plume of smoke poured out of the kitchen and into the living room. The sink had a saucepan in it, and in the saucepan was crumpled up bits of paper that were on fire. Mike turned the taps on, put the fire out and then proceeded to open the kitchen windows. I opened the backdoor. The man came into the kitchen doorway. The three of us proceeded to cough and waft away the smoke. "What was it?" asked the man, "What happened?" The man looked towards the kitchen sink and saw the burnt bits of soggy paper in the saucepan. "Good God," gasped the man, "What's that?" "Don't worry about it," said Mike, "The fire's out now. Just keep the doors and windows open for a bit and the smoke will go." "I don't what's happened?" said the dazed and confused man, "Why can't I find my walkie talkie?" "It'll turn up, I'm sure," said Mike. "But how did the fire start?" asked the man. "Who knows," said Mike, "Kitchens can be dangerous places. Anyway, we'll be off now. Thanks for your vote. Maybe see you on voting day." Mike started to leave but the man called back to him. "Wait a minute," said the man, "You didn't have anything to do with this did you?" Mike stopped, froze, turned round and gave the man a furious stare. "You what?" he said with a tense stare on his face. "Well," said the man, sounding scared and anxious, "It's just rather coincidental that my kitchen sets on fire the second you two turn up trying to get votes." "What are you saying fella?" asked Mike, as he took a slow an intimidating step closer to the increasingly terrified man, "Are you saying it had something to do with me? Are you saying I set fire to your house to get your vote? Are you saying I crept into your back garden, broke into your house, hid your walkie talkie, crumpled up old pieces of the Sun newspaper that you kept under your sink next to that bottle of bleach, put them in a saucepan, set fire to them and then threw the flaming saucepan in the sink before stealing one of your cream cakes and eating it, all to force you into voting for us? Is THAT what you're saying? Because that sounds mad. It sounds like you're accusing me and when I get accused, I get f*cking angry." "Mike, just calm down," I said. The poor man looked terrified. "No," said the man, trembling in fear, "No. No. No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to accuse you. I'm very sorry if it came out that way. Thank you for being here to help me. You can certainly rely on my vote." Mike's expression of fury and intimidation was quickly replaced with a big cheesy smile. He shook the man's hand thanked him for his vote and then left.
Mike and I left the house and as we walked down the street, I gave Mike a very displeased stare as I shook my head with in disapproval. Mike had a huge smile on his face. "Mike," I bluntly said, "Did you just set fire to that man's house to get his vote?" "Listen babes," said Mike, "Ask me no questions and I'll tell you no lies." "You could have killed him and burnt his whole house down," I said. "What, with a bit of a paper in a pan in the sink?" said Mike, "I doubt it. You should see what I used to leave in my old head master's top drawer." "Setting fire to someone's kitchen to get their vote is NOT OK," I said. "I never said I set fire to anything," said Mike, "It's like I said to that judge in 1999. You didn't see me do anything, so if you didn't see anything – nothing happened." Mike then produced a walkie talkie from his pocket and chucked it into a nearby bush. This was obviously the middle-aged man's walkie talkie. I gave Mike a very firm stare and made my disappointment obvious. I know he means well, but MY GOD!
Mike and I continued going from house to house and knocking door to door to try and get support for the KISS campaign. The responses varied. Some told us that KISS was a stupid name, some and sadly a lot said they would be voting for Natasha's QCUC campaign. To be honest we got hardly any support, and of the support we did get it happened because of some lies and threats made by Mike.
When we came to the last house, I was feeling tired and deflated. We knocked on the door and a boy with an attitude answered. "Yeah? What?" he snapped in a moody tone. "Hiya mate," I said, "How old are you?" "I'm ten," snapped the moody boy, "And I'm not your mate." "Oh," I said, feeling slightly taken aback, "OK. Is your Mum or Dad in?" "Why?" snapped the boy. "Well, I would like to talk to them," I said. "What for?" snapped the boy. "Oh, I don't think you'd understand," I said, "Can you just get your Mum or Dad for me?" "F*ck off," the ten-year-old napped, "I'm not thick you know!" "Oh, I didn't mean to imply you were thick," I said. "Who are you anyway, ugly?" snapped the boy. "Well," I said, "I..." "Listen you gobby little b*stard!" Mike snapped at the boy, interrupting me, "Go get your f*cking Mum or Dad or I'll find out which school you go to, get a job there as a caretaker, put smashed up bits of glass in your bottle of milk, make you terrified to go to the toilet on your own, and make sure you spend the rest of year six eating your free school dinner through a f*cking straw!" The poor kid looked terrified. Mike didn't seem to care. I gave the kid a warm smile in a desperate attempt to rectify Mike's inappropriateness. "Do you want to just get your Mum or Dad?" I gently said. "What the f*ck is wrong with you?" I quietly snapped at Mike. "He was f*cking horrible to you," said Mike. "I don't care," I quietly snapped, "He's a kid. You're not. Just stand there and shut up."
A man in his mid-forties appeared; the boy's Dad. He looked rather inconvenienced that we were on his doorstep. "Yes?" he defensively said, "What do you want?" "Well," I said, "I..." Mike interrupted me. "Listen mush," he bluntly said to the man, "We haven't got time to p*ss about. We need people to vote for our campaign. It means not voting for these proposals Natasha Swann is putting forward and voting for us to keep everything the same. You gunna vote for us or Natasha?" The man looked rather offended. "Well you've got a very casual attitude," said the man, "If this is how you're going to get votes, you're going to lose." "Right," said Mike, "Let me make it simple. Vote for us and I won't come back here, knee cap you, knock your teeth down your throat, rip out your liver and ram it down your annoying kid's gob." I was completely embarrassed by Mike's continuing inappropriate and threatening behaviour. The man, with fear in his voice, said he'd vote for us. Mike smiled, shook the man's handed and we left. I'm not sure canvassing with Mike is a good idea.
A number of people remembered me as the frozen man who appeared in the newspaper, and as someone who abuses dogs, eats poo and sh*ts on kids. Lots of people made hurtful comments and threw insults at me but they quickly shut up when Mike threatened them. The point is that after feeling rather positive, I now feel rather pessimistic and deflated. I don't know if we can win this election. The vast majority of people who engaged in discussion with us said they'd be voting for Natasha. Mike and I tried to convince people that Natasha's proposals were dangerous but they just didn't seem interested. I'd say that out of all the people Mike and I spoke to 70% said they'd vote for Natasha, 10% said they'd vote for us and 20% were undecided. I think we need to come up with a different strategy because the current canvassing strategy doesn't seem to be winning us many voters. Maybe I'm not the best person to be involved in canvassing...