A sense of hazy, hung-over unreality seems to accompany the morning after a big election.

Especially one that feels momentous - like the Labour win in 1997.

And to a lesser extent Boris’ win in the mayoral election.

Personally, I can’t quite believe it.

And if I let myself believe it, I instantly feel I will believe anything and that anything is possible.

In this state of mind I can imagine Boris turning the job down.

How infuriating - after all those hours of vote counting.

All those weeks staying tight-lipped, on message and sober.

Why would he do such a thing?

Why not?

Running for Mayor had been a “mistake” BoJo admits to gobslapped and bleary-eyed journos at City Hall.

He had done it for a “laugh”.

"I don't know whose idea it was.

“It was probably someone's idea of a joke and I thought yes, why not.

"Boris see, Boris do - sort of thing.

"Anyway, I never thought people in London would actually vote for me.

"I don't want the job. God no.

"Look at Ken - he looks so miserable.

"That's no life for Boris."

At last - motherload - the blooper everyone was waiting for during the campaign.

The punchline to the whole ridiculous episode.
A moment of clarity.

Then as if Lynton Crosby has yanked and invisible leash, he remembers to be serious - as befits a man in public office.

And he apologises.

"It was a mistake. I am sorry for leading everybody on."

Suddenly everyone is running around City Hall looking for Ken.

But he's gone home to his newts.

Some bright spark pipes up: “Do you think he will come back if we ask nicely?”