FLY ME TO THE MOON: Operation Moonshot has got off to the best possible start. Chris Grayling has got involved.
True to form, Grayling has taken the briefs and run with them. He then pulled them down, and took a photograph of the Grayling derrière. Moonshot means moonshot, and nobody knows quite where to look.
Official guidance on what Operation Moonshot actually is has not been published. Boris Johnson announced it in his usual disingenuous way, because he will say any old bollocks you suggest to him. He hasn’t got a clue about it, but it does have the distinct advantage of sounding quite impressive.
Unfortunately, Grayling’s untimely intervention has left the project in jeopardy. Even “Classic” Dom Cummings can’t justify a £100bn price tag for a picture of Chris Grayling’s arse.
Instead, Cummings will be forced to put his iron fist into the threadbare velvet glove that is Johnson, and devise a world beating cock and bull story to blame the EU instead.
For penance, Grayling should expect to be dispatched to find an optician called Bernard Castle, somewhere in northern England.
“Operation Moonshot was a disaster waiting to happen anyway,” rocket scientist Stan Dwellback told LCD Views. “It’s not rocket science. We at the British Space Programme were expecting some serious funding at last. Instead it turns out to be a cover story for shovelling enough money to pay for a serious cheese mining mission to the moon into the pockets of an accountancy firm. What do they know about space?”
With that bitter thought, Dwellback returned to his chemistry set, and the crazies on QAnon who were trying to convince him that we are under attack by fighting machines from Mars. “The chances of anyone coming from Mars are a million to one, they said,” he muttered darkly. “But still they come. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!”
Cummings is going to have to move quickly, before Michael Gove has a chance to bare all as well.