Recently, the people of Britain have complained about what is perceived as my greediness. I have received letters from several concerned voters, and others have stopped me in the street and demanded to know: “Who ate all the pies? Who ate all the pies?”

Invariably, the questioner will then answer his own question: “You fat bastard, you fat bastard, you ate all the pies.”

And this, in essence, is true. I have eaten all the pies. Or rather, I have eaten as many pies as one man can safely eat. The other pies I am saving for later on, in my freezer.

To the uneducated man, this may seem greedy. But I can assure you it is not. It is, in fact, essential to the well-being of Britain that I eat as many pies as possible.

The reasons are complex, and require a thorough grounding in the nature of both pastry and fillings to be properly understood. This notwithstanding, I have been given this opportunity by the publication you now hold in your hand to try to explain my unprecedented pie-hogging to you: the hoi polloi; the great unwashed; the plebs, if you will (and you will, for I am the Chancellor of the Exchequer, and I say so).

Firstly it must be appreciated that I have dedicated the larger part of my life to eating pies, and subsequently, I am something of an expert. I have no doubts in saying that I am better at pie-eating than you are. Were there to be a pie-eating competition, I would win it. I would certainly give Mr Michael Portillo, my counterpart in the Conservative Party, a sound thrashing.

You see, eating pies is not something that everybody can be trusted to do. As a nation, we must be very careful how many pies are eaten. If we eat too many pies, we will run out of pies. If we do not eat enough pies, some pies may pass their ‘Use By Date’, and become mouldy and unappetising.

By eating most of the pies myself, and freezing the rest for future consumption, I am able to maintain the fine balance that is essential to smooth pie-eating for many years to come.

Importantly, Britain maintains control over its own pies. While we are certainly looking forward to a time where we can share our pies with our friends in Europe, that time has not yet come. The European pies are not as nice as British pies, and lack filling.

This means that our pies must stand against pies around the world. They must be compared to American pies, which are deliciously crumbly, and are available in both regular and “a la mode” varieties. They must be compared to Japanese pies, which are small, but plentiful and very scrumptious, as I discovered when Tony brought some back from his visit, and I stole them from his fridge while he wasn’t looking.

Britain’s pies must compete internationally with all these pies. How can I ensure the continued quality of our pies in this international pie shop, if I do not eat them all myself?

What the detractors of my all-the-pie-eating policy forget to mention is that we in Britain, as a country, have more pies than ever before. Yes, they are all in either my tummy or my freezer, but they are there and they are plentiful.

So-called experts in the past predicted that if more than 96% of those able to bake pies did so, there would be too many pies, and the quality of both the crusts and the fillings would suffer. Our latest figures show that only 3.5% of potential pie-makers, which is less than one million (yes it is), are currently failing to make pies. And yet there is not a glut of pies, and they are still yummy.

This is because I am eating them all.

You should thank me.

Sometimes, my colleagues in the other, less important, departments of our Government come to me and ask for some of my pies. Just the other day, David Blunkett, who is in charge of Education and Employment, asked if I could spare some pies. I told him no.

In fact, earlier today, Alan Milburn phoned and said: “Gordon, please may I have some pies for the doctors and nurses? Go on, you’ve got loads.” And I had to refuse, not because I am a mean man, but because I have a duty.

Yes, Britain, it is my duty to eat all the pies. Even when I feel that I can not even look at another pie, I must stuff it into my face, because it is the right thing to do. Even when the other ministers poke fun at me, and call me Gordy Pordy Pudding and Pie, which is very hurtful, I must hide my bitter tears, and comfort myself as best I can, with a Cornish Pasty.

When I decide the time is right, you shall all have pie. There will be pies for all, in abundance. I may let you sniff some pies before the next election, if you are good. But until then, get off. They’re mine.

Gordon Brown’s book, “1001 Things To Not Do With An Enormous Pile Of Cash”, is available in stores now.