The United Kingdom was in mourning today as the last known Brexit promise was reported to have died in captivity.
Brexit poacher turned gamekeeper while still poaching, Jacob Rees-mogg, is to bury the dead promise in a tearful ceremony in the Thames.
”We’ve had to hire professional mourners,” the MP for Emerging Markets told LCD Views, “as it was difficult to find anyone still credulous enough to get onto a boat with myself and Nigel now.”
Still, the ceremony is to mimic the one in which Nigel Fartage (never has been and never will be an MP) and everyone’s favourite fairy tale stepmother, Kate Goey (needs sacking Vauxhall, wake up now) paraded the promise on its capture in 2016.
”I wouldn’t say mimic, so much as mock,” Rees-mogg clarifies, “I hope it doesn’t take too long as I’m itching for another vote in the Commons to push Britain closer to Dickensian England.”
The death of ‘take back control of fishing’ is the last, following in a sad parade of extinction that began the moment the ink had dried on the EUref ballot papers in June 2016.
”We’ve killed them off one by one in as humane a manner as possible,” Jacob said, adjusting his specs and smirking, “the lower orders are so touchingly gullible, I’m amazed this farce is still going on.”
But what will you and other leading Brexiters do now the Brexit safari park is empty?
”Oh, we will start blaming the EU and the remoaners. Talk about fifth columnists and attempts to subvert the will of the British people, while attempting to avoid public inquiries resulting from the revelations of just how rigged things have become now that the Cambridge Analytica story has broken.”
This seems sensible. Sovereignty died with the Brexit White Paper, as we never lost it. The NHS funding promise died the moment the bus was parked. Control our borders was shot and butchered by the reality of physical space required, and the necessity of JIT manufacturing methods and how trade works in general in the 21st Century. Global Britain has been shown to be the imperial clothing set we knew it was. Strike new trade deals by losing all the ones we have? Who the hell ever believed that?
”Many did dear fellow,” Jacob smirked again, “It’s nice to have an electorate with so many pockets of desperation to take advantage of. And the irony, when you consider you helped create the sorry conditions to begin with. I do laugh with my chums at the club.”
I bet it’s rauccous with disdain. Strange how the last known Brexit promise was unable to keep its species alive. Lies normally beget more lies.
”Yes, quite, now do you mind, Ive got to go and waste fish in the Thames to better honour the uplifting presence of food banks.”