Who’s the daddy? Bonking Boris Johnson is denying responsibility for his girlfriend’s pregnancy, and also denying that the child was born in a stable because of cuts to the NHS.
The birth was attended by shepherds, 50,000 newly redundant nurses, and a variety of former public sector workers seeking shelter after defaulting on their mortgages.
Three wise men from the government also visited the stable. They declared it a health and safety hazard, and closed it down. Fearing the repercussions, they returned home in secret and shared the maternity pay between them.
Glory shone around. But unfortunately it was only the blaze as the stable was burned to the ground. Rumour has it that the fire was started when Boris opened his mouth to speak. His pants ignited instantly, setting the dry straw on fire.
The mother, Mary, was so afraid that she took the baby and went into exile in the EU.
But who’s the daddy? Even Mary wouldn’t say that Boris was the father. It was the Holy Spirit, she said, over and over again, although as a teenage immigrant, something might have got lost in translation.
Unfortunately, the DNA results were lost in the fire.
Johnson, meanwhile, suspecting Mary of being unfaithful, decided to play no further part in the story. “Erm, yes, well, no, erm, the girl – boy – child – whatever – it can’t be mine, it has a shining gold thing round its head, like a shock of blond hair, totally not like me at all, no, no, it’s, erm, it’s a halo, that’s the word, by crikey, Christus natus hodie, don’t you know,” he blurted to anyone who cared to listen.
The child, it has been foretold, has a brief if spectacular career ahead of him. Far-sighted seers claim that he will raise the dead, heal the sick, and stop Brexit. He will be lynched by the authorities for doing so, as his actions will eat into their profits as undertakers and private healthcare providers.
Joy to the world!