Boris’ wife, Tasha, had been given the task of providing comestibles. She sent their Crimean servant Yekatarina to Waitrose. “Forget beluga, yes? Lumpfish caviar good enough for plebs. But hey, bitch, don’t forget Cristal!”
But you know, even that huge Surrey dacha wasn’t big enough for the world and his partner. Boris had his man shoot three out of every ten.
You can’t please everyone at Christmas.