[OBAMA]: Hey, there, Dave?
[CAMERON]: Yes, Barry?
[OBAMA]: Well, remember how we talked on the phone last night?
[CAMERON]: What, about the problems of running a coalition government?
[OBAMA]: No, no, not that.
[CAMERON]: About how Michelle is really into this White House garden and won’t let you have any more chicken wings, because you can’t grow blue cheese dressing in a 10×40 plot?
[OBAMA]: Um. Yeah, that is pretty much a bummer. But no, not that. The [ahem] other thing?
[CAMERON]: Oooooohhhh. You mean being the subject of a lot of marginally creepy real person slash fiction? Even though, let’s be honest with ourselves here, I kind of look like Robert Patrick but made out of Silly Putty? Though Nick Clegg is kind of dreamy…
[OBAMA]: Whoa, buddy, hold up there!
[CAMERON]: This isn’t a problem for you?
[OBAMA]: Um. Erm. Uh, no?
[CAMERON]: No Bobama? Obiden?
[CAMERON]: Sorry. Beg pardon. You were saying?
[OBAMA]: When I said, “Why don’t we both wear black suits, white shirts, and royal blue ties?”
[CAMERON]: Great idea, Barry. We do look smashing.
[OBAMA]: Sure, sure. But…Dave? I didn’t actually mean it.
[CAMERON]: Wait, you didn’t want us to match?
[OBAMA]: Well, no. We decided, if you recall, that I would wear the blue and you the red. Now we kind look like preteen girls who also wear BFF necklaces.
[CAMERON]: Indeed. Well this is rather embarrassing.
[OBAMA]: Yeah, a bit.
[CAMERON]: Shall I put my jacket back on?
[OBAMA]: You do that. And have an aide bring you that red tie, okay?
[CAMERON]: Right. Shall I have them bring us some wings, as well?