“It’s amazing what a few splitters can achieve in just a few short days,” LCD Views Crystal Balls says, “although I’d prefer a baker’s dozen by midday today. Another rocket into the bunkers of the old Brexit parties to see the old men and women stumble out from their well padded holes in the ground, faces smeared with the soot of more defections.”
Will eleven departures from Labour and Tory, and a bonus Austin, be enough to force the captains of the Global Titanic Britain to change course, even as the bows of the once great ship of state scrape along the unrelenting iceberg?
”The stinking shit of state is more accurate, currently,” Crystal Balls replies, “bobbing on top of the filth swells on the sea of despair.”
That’s a smelly situation to find yourself in. It’s no way to run a country, unless you want to run it into the ground. As a few seem to want to do, based on the last few years.
”Yes indeed. But looking at what lies outside the bunker. The bot armies. The rent a gob fascists on the street. The tribal political groupings furious and baffled. That’s why more rats haven’t jumped off the ship yet,” Balls rolls on, not forgetting we’re mixing it up with bunker, ships and shits,
“they’re looking at the waters so full already of the wreckage of jobs and lives caused by the duopoly at Westminster pursuing Brexit and thinking, I don’t want to bob about in there.”
Well they may need to. Leave means leave. Get out of the old parties and take a dip.
”I want them too. Another handful leave each and we can watch as Tragic Grandpa and the Maybot begin to fight one another to turn the big wheel to starboard before the Brexitberg tears a giant hole in the hull of all we hold dear.”