He sat for a moment, not waiting for the silence, but for the roar. The red box sat on his lap and he drummed his fingers on its supple leather top, soaking up the atmosphere and raising an eyebrow at his smirking opposite number. Finally, his adrenaline peaked, he stood, placed the box on the lectern in front of him and opened the two brass locks with a satisfying click. As he lifted the lid to pull out the new budget his hand closed upon a slinky-silkiness that he really hadn't expected. "Damn," he thought, his bluster extinguished, "wrong box".
Image credit - HM-treasury.gov.uk