Benedict Cumberbatch -- ministerial, eloquent, oddly handsome -- is the obvious front-runner here. He’s respected across the Atlantic, he’s lived in London all his life, and he seems to have the right sort of hair, don’t you think? More importantly, though, his election would allow us to disrupt the current Etonian nepotist clique once and for all (Benedict went to Harrow).
With 31.5k sworn police officers, we would have an army roughly on a par with Portugal’s. A firm border will be established on the outskirts of Travelcard Zone 8, with perimeter fencing and apologies to Watford Junction. It is likely that our neighbours, the Not-So-United Kingdom, will wish to test our foreign policy early on, and several may encroach into our airspace. But with a paucity of open spaces and a population softened by brunch dates, London is likely to come off second best in conventional warfare. Instead, we will employ guerrilla tactics: the London Underground will become our warren of secret tunnels, a misplaced manhole cover our urban Punji trap, and a general desire to avoid confrontation our ingenious camouflage.