In a fly-on-the-wall update from our secret reporter inside the UN, two special envoys on climate change, Messers Kufuor and Stoltenberg, are struggling to bring key nations on board with plans to cut carbon emissions.

John Kufuor: [shakes his head despairingly] ‘How do we persuade global leaders to act against climate change? Especially China – they’re not doing enough fast enough.’

Jens Stoltenberg: [smiles] ‘I like to dance,’ [looks for an instant like Nicole Kidman]

Kufuor: ‘What?’

Stoltenberg: ‘You know, dance.’ [Moving his hips]. ‘Why don’t we do a dance that makes the world understand how dangerous climate change really is?’

Kufuor: ‘A UN-led piece of theatre? That hasn’t been done before. OK. Who’s going to do what? Wait, don’t tell me! Why don’t I be the world and you be the weather?’

Stoltenberg: ‘OK! If you start by pirouetting in and lying down on the floor, I’ll grand jeté over to you and wiggle my fingers to indicate that I’m raining on you. Shall we try?’

Kufuor: ‘Okay, okay. Oopla! Ok, I’m on the floor now. Go!’

[Stoltenberg leaps to Kufuor and stands over him, moving his fingers] ‘See? Like this.’

Kufuor: ‘That’s strangely relaxing.’

Stoltenberg: ‘You’re not meant to enjoy it. Put your hands over your face to represent the Earth’s torment.’

Kufuor: [muffled, through fingers] ‘OK, what next?’

The door to the meeting room opens, and Ingrid the tea lady appears. She sees them and is gobsmacked.

Ingrid: ‘Er?’

Stoltenberg: ‘Yes, Ingrid, what is it? I am the weather and I wait for no one.’

Ingrid: ‘Er? I came to ask if you wanted tea, but why is Mr Kufuor on the floor?’

Kufuor: [still muffled] ‘I am pretending to be the world at the moment.’

Ingrid: [brightens and nods] ‘Ah, is your belly a mountain?’

Kufuor: [taking his hands off his face] ‘Ingrid how dare you? It’s not that literal an interpretation. This is sophisticated artistic representation.’

Ingrid: ‘Ah! Yes, like the Meeting Carbon Budgets report. Here’s your tea, then. And don’t forget, you’re both seeing the Chinese at three.’ [Ingrid exits].

Kufuor: [depressed] ‘Better make the rain bigger. The Chinese need persuading’.

Stoltenberg: ‘I can’t make the rain bigger without making my fingers longer.’

Kufuor: ‘Try.’

Stoltenberg: ‘Listen, my friend. You’ll have to grant me concessions. That’s impossible.’

Kufuor: ‘Now you sound like the Chinese.’

Stoltenberg: ‘Alright, moving on. If you curl up, you can look as if you’re in pain as I rain on you, symbolising the Earth’s battle against rising sea levels.’

Kufuor: [curls up]

Stoltenberg: ‘That’s good. I think we look strong. What next?’

Kufuor: [uncurls himself]

Stoltenberg: ‘Don’t uncurl until I say you can.’

Kufuor: ‘But I ate a large lunch and it’s uncomfortable.’

Stoltenberg: ‘Tough. The world must do what the weather dictates from now on.’

Kufuor: ‘That’s a bit harsh, isn’t it?’

Stoltenberg: ‘Harsh, shmarsh. That’s the dilemma we must convey. We best be as accurate in our portrayal as possible.’

Kufuor: [groans with discomfort] ‘Oh God.’

Stoltenberg: ‘This is no time for prayer! Let’s conclude our dance drama.’

Kufuor: [picks himself off the floor, clutching his belly] ‘My lunch is starting to repeat on me.’ [He throws up in a waste paper bin].

Stoltenberg: ‘Excellent! The perfect finish to our dance. The world is indeed very sick. And I…I am omnipotent!’ [Stoltenberg throws back his head, laughs maniacally and performs a double contretemps, changing direction quickly].

Kufuor: [sullen, looking up from the bin] ‘Yeah. You’ll be needing that move later this afternoon.’

© Gvons 2015



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