August 31 Darling rift with 'brutal' Brown

The battle was born like many others not from aggression but love.
"Offer me not your eyes but entrust me your lips, if it so that I may die tonight then let me die a respected confidante and your love "
All sound stopped as the two men faced each other, I caught sight of a plump young woman diving behind the photocopier, knocking the waste paper bin over with her ankles. The Giant Scot spun round and flailed wildly, arms like hams, fists like haggis. The first punch connected and carried through, taking with it teeth and fibre, ramming up against the soft tissue of the cheek. Whilst globs of blood hung in the air Alistair began struggle to his feet. It was like watching an upturned angle poise lamp creak back into shape.
Junior ministers arrived and clapped, some threw paper which was promptly sucked into the thug vortex and spat out at high speed, the edges clearly frozen, breaking off as the cool air hit them.
"A good day to bury bad memo's "someone called above the din.
It was still only my third day and I had never I felt so alive, one day this would be my fight.