Not many people know that I work on a casual basis as a crisis intervention officer, because that’s a job title I just made up. In my imaginary role as a CIO, I’ve supplied my services to many firms and individuals, including the contestants on Deal or No Deal, who I regularly shout advice at from across the living room.
So it was with great relish that I arranged a consultant position for myself today, in an effort to assist the Foreign Office in their handling of the Julian Assange embassy fiasco. I’ve put together a number of tips for them to use in their efforts to extract the Australian leaker from his hidey-hole. Sadly their fax machine isn't accepting incoming missives, so I'm hoping they stumble across this instead.
- Brew up a large pot of Columbian coffee – Assange is clearly a man of taste, as evidenced by his lovely haircut. So what better way to tempt him outside than a nice strong mug of Columbia’s finest? He must be getting sick of Robusta at this point. Wait until the Ecuadorians crack a window open and then waft the smell in, luring Assange close to the window for a niff, at which point he can be grabbed by the nose which will officially be on UK soil.
- Play Ecudador by Sash! at top volume until Assange grows weary of the thumping bass and repeated cries of “EEEEE-CUA-DOR!” and comes outside to ask them to turn it down a bit.
- Navigate the London Underground until the nearest tunnel to the Embassy is discovered, then branch off from this with a series of tunnels (don’t forget to buttress!) in the same way as ants may create a colony. This can be billed as an exploratory expedition to find – oh, I don’t know, an old buried bath house? Yeah, that’ll do. Anyway, make sure one tunnel ‘accidentally’ comes up in the Embassy’s kitchens, where whoever volunteers can then knock out a chef, nab their clothes and pose as a new cook. The inside man (who will need to speak an Ecuadoran version of Spanish to avoid suspicion) can then slip a few doses of Nytol into the evening’s soup. From there it’s a simple matter of waiting for everyone to fall asleep, before stuffing Assange in a sleeping bag, slinging him over their shoulder and bolting back down the tunnel.
- Stick a wasp up a cat’s arse then shove it through the letterbox. Wait for the panicked staff to flee the premises, then catch Assange in a headlock.
- Pretend the street outside the Embassy has been hired out by a Hollywood film crew to shoot some outdoor scenes for some bit of fluff involving giant robot zombies or something. Clear out all police and TV camera crews, then wheel in a large trailer with TOM CRUISE written on the door. Hire some local builders to walk around with stuff that looks like film equipment, ladders and all that. When Assange comes to the window for a peek, one of the builders will be given the nod to smash the window with the end of his ladders. During the confusion a plain clothes copper can chuck a rope through the window and try to lasso Assange. As the rope is on UK soil, this is a legal manoeuvre according to article 231.4c of the official Ropes in Embassies Act 1994.