(Literally Naked) Truth.

"Mayor Johnson, is there any rational explanation as to why you're naked?"

He gave me a look as if he were suggesting I was the middle aged man without clothes in the room.

"Sir, I received a call not more than an hour ago from your secretary. She was rather distressed"

"Oh! Elizabeth? What ever for, chief inspector?"

Then came the silence, and it smiled at me incredulously, daring me to test a sound from my throat. My mouth jumped hurdles of air; I must have been standing there for a minute with my jaw swinging and words dying, the corpses sliding off my lips. I probably looked like an aroused goldfish.

"Mr..." I was trying very hard to forget he was a 'mr' at this moment.

"...Boris, your receptionist was rather concerned when she came into your office to see you, and saw a lot more of you than she was hoping to..."

It was a newly modernised office besides the wall-long colonial era bookshelves; furniture that challenges the definition of 'chair' and 'desk', some confusing artworks hung apparently upside-down and the smell of new computer accessories. The part that concerned me most was the new glass panel that offered a wonderful perspective to all of London of the Mayor's backside.

"...Essentially she found you in the middle of disrobing in front of your desk"

The Mayor was nonplussed "Why yes, what about it?"

"Sir, I realise you have a lot of stresses being the Mayor. You've recently come back from a vacation and are still adjusting to your new role-"

"Stop a moment, inspector. Are you implying I should be wearing clothes?"

And this was the man running the local government.

"Well, I very much respect your privacy and will to do as you please in your own office, however I think your choice in attire... or lack thereof, is highly unprofessional for a person of your responsibilities"

I had placed my words as I would my king in a game of chess: behind a lot of bullshit and out of the way of getting into any of it.

He smiled in an awfully natural way (for a politician, the smile looked genuine). At that moment my palms could have been used as an alternative water source for the human population.

"My friend! This is simply a misunderstanding,"

Clearly there was.

"You see, I've recently had this office renovated and fitted with an internet connection"

Already I was very disturbed, the mayor had opened a jack in the box in my head filled with seedy internet sites and not quite salubrious fan fiction.

"But sir, what would your wife think of this?!"

"Haha, what do you mean? I have to do this at home too"

Down the rabbit hole.

"At. At home? With your... wife watching?"

"Penelope often sits with me as I'm doing my work, yes,"

Oh god. Politicians are sick people. I wished that this was an imposter; the mayor's evil twin who had kidnapped the real Boris Johnson, and is not wearing clothes due to sheer insanity.

"I do agree with you though chief inspector," wait. what?

"You'd think with all these confounding advances in technology they'd have been able to provide something other than naked dsl for internet plans."