It was fun.
I was the vicar of a small parish in the north of England. I didn't like my churchwardens and I suspected they didn't like me.
Now the churchwardens are supposed to be the representatives of the people; the people elect them and they're there to keep t' bloody vicar in check. This didn't stop me sniffing out and promoting candidates to run against the chaps I didn't like. Ooh, the ducking and diving and back-stabbing- and all of it conducted under a razzle-dazzle camoflauge of sunny smiles and Christian fellowship. It was a thrilling time and I won.
In the process I learned that the powerful:
(1)find democracy inconvenient and will do all they can to subvert it;
(2)are hungry for love and approval;
(3)lose touch with reality;
(4)lose all sense of proportion;
(5)persist in regarding themselves as the good guys in spite of all evidence to the contrary;
(6)believe, again in the teeth of all the evidence, that they alone know best;
(7)are permanently high on the excitement of it all;
(8)are intolerant of criticism and squash it where they can;
(9)will lie and lie and lie, rather than admit the slightest failing or weakness (even to themselves).
Once I'd worked all this out (which took many years) I resolved never to place myself in a position of power again.