The UN has responded to the election result with dismay. It has downgraded the UK from democracy to gammonocracy.
In the footballing terms so beloved of low-level trolls on social media, this is like being relegated from the Premier League in order to play in a Sunday afternoon pub league.
In practical terms, it means we are now being dictated to by gammons like Joyce and Barry, who seemingly live in a small town branch of Wetherspoons.
For it is now the drunken wishes of self-righteous Joyce and red-faced Barry which dictate policy. We want out, and we want out now, whatever the consequences, is the order of the day.
What about the future of the NHS? Hey, we are all going to die anyway.
What about Our Precious Union? The Irish are violent drunken feckers, and not even Scots likes haggis.
Who cares about being enslaved by Boris Johnson and his ghastly friends? Far better to be repressed by posh Englishmen than enslaved by foreigners.
Austerity? Poverty? Infant mortality? Not bothered, it’s a price worth paying.
Foreigners? Especially those horrid brown ones? They can all go home. Including the ones who are at home in the UK. It’s Britain First, and everyone else can bog off while the honest white working class submit themselves to a savage rogering by rich public schoolboys.
And those Frenchies can take all that stinking garlic with them when they go.
So thanks, Joyce and Barry. Thank you for your selfish, uncaring attitude. Thank you for voting to wreck this country because of your naked racism.
And if Brexit turns out to be wonderful, we will happily eat our words and admit we were wrong. But we aren’t holding our breath.
And if Brexit means we all get screwed over, our rights removed and our money stolen, then, Joyce and Barry, this is down to your small minded, petty attitude. You voted for it. Own it. Be proud to be exploited and delighted to be ripped off.
We told you so, and you refused to listen. You preferred the obvious lies of a man so cowardly that he hides in a fridge to avoid a cosy interview.
Mind you, most of us would hide in a fridge to avoid having to talk to Piers Morgan.