This turned out to be true, kind of. It was certainly a seriously strange event. I am talking men in wigs, a flower- power VW bus and a drum solo. And, oh yes, three politicians who did not want to be there but were under orders to show up and look unified.

The location was kept secret until the last moment for security reasons. This sounded fishy to me (and since the location was the old Billingsgate fish market, it actually was fishy). Security for what? For Alan Milburn? This seemed ridiculous until I realised that it wasn’t Mr Milburn who needed safeguarding but his hair-do. This requires 24-hour protection, not to mention weekly conditioning treatments.

Obviously, given the seriousness of the event, I arrived early. Three billboards, covered in red plastic, had been put in a semi-circle on the concrete bank. The Labour people did not want journalists wandering round. “Can you get in the pen?” one shouted. The pen? She pointed down to where, indeed, a small metal enclosure had been created just for us.

For reasons that I do not understand (possibly that we are all a bunch of sheep) we stood in the pen and waited. For once the weather was co-operating, because storm clouds were indeed gathering. As were the politicians. First we saw John Prescott’s Jag. Then Gordon Brown’s Vauxhall Omega.

A VW bus putt-putted in. Was this for Mr Milburn? It was covered in flower-power decals and groovy lettering. It looked as if it belonged to The Mammas and the Papas. A clue that this was not the case was the message on its side, which said: “Lowest Mortgage Rates in 40 years”. Like wow, man, that’s not even interesting. What’s wrong with Make Love, Not War? (Actually, I can see that that is not going to work for new Labour.)

Six students got out of the bus. They must be very desperate, what with all that debt, for they had agreed to wear fancy dress while taking off the red plastic. Two were in Regency-style powdered wigs. Two had escaped from the Sergeant Pepper album cover and two were wearing vintage Seventies revival. It was worse than the high street on a Saturday night.

Three men in dark suits suddenly appeared. They looked like extras from Reservoir Dogs. I am not sure that Mr Brown was wearing his own suit. If so, it didn’t fit. The Milburn hair looking dangerously quiff-like. In a way, they too fitted into the theme. Certainly Mr Brown could easily belong to the Regency era. Mr Milburn, at 46, is a child of the Seventies. And Mr Prescott? Well, he is 66 and so knows a bit about the Sixties.

The unmistakable intro to Green Onions by Booker T and the MGs boomed out. It went perfectly with the bus. Each poster carried an economic theme. There was Regency music for the one about the longest period of growth for 200 years, and a drum solo for the Sixties (lowest inflation since then). For the Seventies (lowest unemployment for 29 years) came the refrain: “I pull my jeans on, I pull my old blue jeans on.”

Mr Brown, who cannot possibly own a pair of jeans, looked uncomfortable. He really deserved his own poster (Biggest Sulk in History of the World). This has been a terrible week for Mr Brown, though, and he did seem contrite. He even came over to the pen to take some rather pointed questions.

“Chancellor, do you trust the Prime Minister?” “Absolutely,” Mr Brown said.

And if he added “not” under his breath, then no one heard it.

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