The man was found in a tatty chain pub, ranting at anyone prepared to listen. The viciously discounted beer had clearly gone to his head.
Brexit was the man’s theme, and beer mats were his cue cards. “This Brexit mess has made me increase my prices,” he fumed. “The solution is to leave the EU without a deal, that will bring prices right down!”
LCD Views’ Swift Half correspondent had dropped into the pub on the way home, and became enmeshed in the pub bore’s web of deceit.
“You know immigration, mate,” the man continued, as the hack paused, scenting a story. “Funny thing is, we need it. Brits suffer from brewer’s droop from drinking in my pubs all night. So the birthrate is dropping. Britain needs immigration, just not that horrid EU immigration.”
The man ordered two more pints of Nigel’s Old Saggybollocks and a packet of gammon scratchings as he warmed to his theme.
“Russians,” he belched. “That’s who we need. They can spend their nice roubles in my nice pubs and I can pay them peanuts. Nobody else will eat the bloody things!”
Swig. Belch. Over-friendly arm around shoulders.
“Between you and me,” he said in a loud stage whisper, “the further east you go, the less you need to pay them. I’ll set up a fake travel agency arranging visits to Salisbury Cathedral, and they will flock to me. What do you think of that! If you don’t like it, tough. As my mate James Dyson says, suck it up!”
Coincidentally, ‘suck it up’ is only one consonant different to the government’s official Brexit policy.
It is also a coincidence that the incoherent man flogging cheap booze in a race to the bottom is a complete arsehole.
In this world of the cheap and cheerless, you can’t beat Tim Martin Wetherspoon. Although most would prefer to beat him with a large club.