Wannabe PM Boris Johnson has had his leadership ambitions severely damaged once again. Following a cosy cup of tea with Tony Blair, Boris realised that his credentials had slipped down the back of his sofa.
Suggestions that he should jump on top of it and have a jolly good rummage around were scotched by the man himself.
“Quite honestly, the only thing I should be jumping on top of is that rather fine filly holidaying with me in Italy,” he spluttered. “The going is good to firm, luckily, and after all the jumps I will have a good rummage about!”
Johnson indicated that we should “bugger orff, you nosey pleb”, and ask his gentleman’s gentleman to search his furniture if we were that way inclined.
We felt a mixture of excitement and trepidation as we were ushered into “Bonking” Boris’ throne room. We took up our position on the large, comfortable settee as the flunkey went to fetch radiation-proof gauntlets and a skip.
First plunge. At first, we thought we had come up trumps. However, all that appeared was the tattered shreds of Boris’ credibility. Straight into the skip.
Second effort. Several large, heavy and clearly unfinished bridges came to light, none of which managed to span the Thames, the English Channel or the Irish Sea. Crash, bang, wallop.
Third time lucky? A sheaf of papers. No, not his leadership credentials, but forcefully worded polemics in favour of remaining in the EU. Totally useless now, of course.
Once more, like a small child desperately trying to win the lucky dip. This time, what appeared to be a severed pig’s head. In the subsequent, delicately chosen, words of the forensic scientist, it “looked like it had been interfered with”.
We also discovered vast sums of public money. But no sign of his leadership credentials.
It looks like BoJo has finally lost his mojo.