Category: Brexit

LCD Views can enthusiastically report on huge savings to the public purse will be found by powering the special Brexit hot air ship just by Boris Johnson talking.

“He’s always ready to put words together and whenever he does there’s a lot of heat generated,” Brexit blimp project manager, Mr Esra told LCD Views, “the design we are building has Mr Johnson standing inside the inflatable section and talking on any subject he cares to pick, but preferably about post Brexit trade arrangements and British influence in a dynamic and changing globalised landscape.”

So just talking complete, fabricated on the spot bollocks then?

“Yes. Business as usual. It’s believed the blimp will inflate within seconds and lift off moments later. We will have to be fast to cut loose the ropes. I anticipate no more than half a minute before Boris has filled the ship with hot air and it’s rising.”

But how will he navigate the Brexit blimp if he is standing in the centre of the balloon section?

“How does he navigate now?” Mr Esra asked, “he just chooses locations at random and goes to them. So we hardly see any point in putting in advanced navigational equipment which he will just ignore.”

So more of a drive by feel approach?

“Exactly. It works for him as an MP. If he bumps into something, say a passenger aircraft, he can just bounce off and go in another direction and leave the wreckage behind him.

The main purpose of Boris is Boris, the destination changes every day. Yesterday he wanted to be prime minister by the weekend again, but today he wants May to stay in post and carry the can for Brexit. Steering isn’t important. Boris is important.”

Will he be able to carry passengers?

“Don’t be stupid! Ha! Boris only needs the spectators to pay for his follies, he doesn’t need them coming along for the ride. But he’ll take anyone for a ride of course.”

So how soon will the air ship be built?

“Just as soon as we can jam Boris inside the balloon you see over there and tie a knot in the end of it.”

Up, up and away?

“And right back down again. Everyone is invited on that trip. The whole country. Just ask Michael Gove. He’s standing next to Boris with a giant pin just ready to prick the Boris blimp again.”

LCD Views can happily report today that there is finally reason for that most stubborn group of British voters, the remainers, to rejoice.

“It’s not the sacking of John Humphrys, yet,” our political tides ‘r turning correspondent informs, “it’s the discovery of a fundamental and attractive difference between the two brexshits on offer from the Labour and Tory parties.”

But that’s impossible! Except for “a” fudge on the customs union, there is no difference? And the “a” CU fudge is cake anyway.

“That’s where you are wrong,” our correspondent smiles, “Labour have finally revealed a key detail of how they see life in post Brexit Britain under their governance.”

You mean post Brexit England? It’s pretty much a given now that Brexit is the end of the United Kingdom as a union.

“Well, if you want to be picky, okay. Post brexit England.”

Go on then, what’s the difference?

“Okay. Under Labour’s plan the NHS will still exist after Brexit.”

That’s very reassuring. What’s the detail of how they’ll manage it?

“By collectivising the farms.”

I don’t see the connection?

“It’s obvious. Under Labour’s Brexit plan you’ll simply need to ask the committee selected by central government to run your farm to vote on whether or not they will allow you to walk the forty miles to the nearest state run health centre. So it will still be possible to access the national health service, although some surgeries will probably be run by either the Red Cross or Medecins Sans Frontieres.”

And what’s the Tory plan?

“Oh, the farms will still be collectivised because it will be necessary to force people to till the fields to eat, but the NHS will change as dramatically as expected.”

How so?

“It’ll just be Jacob Rees-mogg sitting on horseback watching you die in a field. Oh, and a vampire drinking your blood to ensure you are always too weak to resist.”

That’s an attractive difference. I know which one I’ll choose.

The long-awaited Brexit colour chart has finally arrived from Dulux, and the patriotic dreams of a red, white and blue Brexit appear to have been dashed completely – unless you can work out how it would look in sepia.

The only available colour for any deal is brown, appropriately enough.

We spoke to Dulux spokesman Will Paintham on the matter.

“We spent several weeks doing a graphics analysis for the various Brexit possibilities,” he said. “We allocated the most appropriate colour to each and every possible deal option we could think of, and each one of them turned out brown. And not brown as in chocolate either.”

We get the idea.

The conservative party are reportedly unconcerned by this, although the only statement they made came from Boris Johnson.

“Nothing to worry about, Brexit is brown, we conservatives are blue, and the blue is worth more than the brown on a snooker table, what ho!”

These remarks were accompanied by his trademark grin, and absolutely no sense of irony.

It should be noted that the chart is not entirely devoid of variety, however, as there are a whopping fifty shades of brown to choose from.

Rumours are already in the air that author E. L. James is filing a lawsuit against Dulux for this, but she has denied this. Naturally enough, as you can’t sue real life when it chooses to imitate art. No matter how disgusting the imitation.

Well there you have it. All hopes of a golden handshake or a silver lining are officially a thing of the past. Britain is officially in the brown stuff, let’s hope we climb out before someone hits flush.

Dreadful comics have been forced onto the backfoot today by the revelation their much anticipated Brexitman comic is to only have one edition because Brexitman is killed by realitynite.

”It happens two thirds of the way through the first comic!” a frustrated fan, Mr Gammon told our Stupidty analyst, “I was given an advanced copy so they could pay me to promote Brexitman on Twatter…what’s thid OUTRAGE?!!!”

Mr Gammon was unable to continue the conversation because he had to take to social media to blame Theresa May for selling out Brexitman by allowing him to even come within a thousand yards of realitynite.

”It’s the total reaction from all the fans pre-selected to review Dreadful’s comic. They were selected after they agreed to take part in an online quiz that asked a simple question, Would you believe anything if a dickhead said it with enough conviction?”

I take it the people selected responded to the survey with a yes?

”Yes.”

But why did they even use realitynite? Everyone knows that’s the one thing capable of killing anyone from the Planet Brexitinsania.

”That or a functioning opposition that isn’t also pursuing the same ends for equally deluded ideological reasons. Oh and the courts. And a general election. And”

I’ll stop the list. That’s just the components of realitynite.

”True.”

So is there any chance of Brexitman actually having survived the total body contact with realitynite and returning for a sequel?

”Well the final third of the comic is mostly just killers screaming about having a civil war to revenge Brexitman, before they get distracted by mass unemployment devastating their regions…”

So probably not?

”Probably no Brexitman sequel. No. Realitynite is a devastating mineral.”

LCD Views can report this morning of a total bargain to bid for on famous auction site Ebay with the listing by an anonymous account of an unopened Brexit.

The Brexit, still in its box, has been listed at £200M per week as a reserve price and can apparently be shipped to a tax haven anywhere in the world, UK addresses, Trump Towers or the Kremlin for a large additional fee detailed as fintech, aerospace, agriculture, auto-manufacturing, the NHS, dreams of faded glory and self respect.

“The image is a little blurry,” our internet shopping expert advises, “the box is scuffed so far as we can tell. It says ‘each Brexit has never been opened’ in the listing detail, but if you look closely you can tell someone has opened the box, closed it and re-sealed it with enough tape to sink a battleship.”

There is a ‘buy it now’ option, and the seller states with confidence that “17.4M people have already bought an individual Brexit, bought it hook, line and sinker”.

“Returns are possible, apparently,” our experts continues, “but the seller advises the purchased Brexit must be returned to your local MP’s constituency office via letter or in person. And if necessary by peaceful street protest for weeks on end in the autumn of this year as the car industry burns to the ground.”

Apparently the bidding for the Brexit was initially ferocious, but the number of people is dropping away the longer the auction goes on.

“I’m a bit surprised Ebay has even allowed the listing to be honest,” our expert muses, “it’s clearly a dodgy product that won’t work as sold. It also says batteries are not included, but in spite of googling I can’t find any information on Brexit batteries, how much power one needs to hold in the Lords, best battery life, costs or where to purchase one?”

How many working parts does it have?

“None. But I did find an image of the components. There’s a shed load of racism and stupid in each Brexit. I wouldn’t bid for one if I were you. Apparently it smells of dead fish.”

Yeah well, the people have had enough of experts.

“Stupid people still have, yes. But many are also waking up to how they were sold something dodgy and are beginning to return it en masse.”

INT    VOTE LEAVE HQ    NIGHT

“The middle of the night 24/06/16”

A big blonde man in a dishevelled suit coat relaxes on a leather sofa. Tie askew. He has riding lycra on his lower half. His hair looks like bed hair.

He’s holding a magazine, “Posh Reader’s Wives : On the buses edition”.

The cover is a woman in knee high riding boots. She holds a riding crop and snarls raunchingly over her shoulder. She is on top of a big red bus in the grounds of a stately home.

Big Blonde Man

”Wha ho!”

He flicks the page quickly.

Big Blonde Man

”Hey! Hey!”

Another man comes into view. Smaller. Shifty looking. He paces. This is Small Man.

Big Blonde Man

”Get a look at this damsel in distress! Tied to a ship’s mast. Let’s beat off the pirates Mickey! Huzzah!”

Small Man ignores him. He crosses to a mirror and practises smiling. It’s a grimace. He has something stuck to his teeth. He picks at it. It’s on his finger nail. He examines it.

CLOSE ON

See what was on his tooth. Go in close. It’s a photo of Rupert Murdoch. When we pull back it’ll be A4 size.

Small Man folds the photo and tucks it away in his pocket.

Big Blonde Man

”By golly! I know this one. This is old…what’s her name? I bedded her at Oxford and her sister and her cousins and her aunt and her mother, I think? Or was it her twin and her great aunt and her former nanny’s ex-riding instructor?”

Small Man

”This isn’t the time!”

Big Blonde Man

”Virgin.”

Big Blonde Man turns the magazine around to show a woman dressed as Elizabeth Ist holding a model Elizabethan ship.

Big Blonde Man

“Don’t worry Mickey. A narrow win for Remain by the morning and the bus tour goes on and on!”

Small Man

”We’re going to win the EU referendum you high wire idiot. While you’ve been looking up old conquests I’ve been studying the numbers..”

Big Blonde Man

”Sailing close to the breeze! That’s all! But we’ll come through!”

Small Man

”You big, bouncing blonde pillock. Do you want to be prime minister or not? If we win we’re screwed. Holes below the waterline. The ship of state run aground. I told you to throw the last TV debate, but you couldn’t help yourself.”

Big Blonde Man slowly and carefully rolls the magazine into a cylinder.

Big Blonde Man

”It’s your fault if we do. The people have had enough of experts? What in God’s testicles was that?”

Small Man retreats as Big Blonde Man rises from the sofa holding the rolled magazine like a club.

They lock eyes as Small Man moves to put a chair between them.

Big Blonde Man lunges swinging. They scuffle. Play “Benny Hill Show” theme music.

The door opens a fraction and a trembling hand extends a piece of paper into the room. The scuffle halts. It wasn’t going well for Small Man.

“52/48 – Leave win!” is written large upon the paper.

Small Man (from underneath Big Blonde Man’s bum)

”It’s okay. No one will take a margin of victory that slight to mean anything but Leave demanding the result is implemented and the prime minister saying he’ll explore the advice. Long grass. We can still grow the long grass and shove Brexit into it. David will know what to do.”

Big Blonde Man

“I’m going to use this narrow victory to batter his blue balls black. I’ll be prime minister in a month. You wait until old Rees-mogg and the other ERG sociopaths start firing off letters to the 1922 committee demanding a leadership contest because Dave won’t trigger Article 50.”

Small Man

“We’ll drag him from Downing Street kicking and screaming. I’ll be chancellor by the end of the month.”

Big Blonde Man

“I thought you wanted to be secretary of state for the environment?”

Small Man

“Don’t joke. Now is not the time.”

A second piece of paper is extended into the room.

“David Cameron has quit!”

Big Blonde Man chases Small Man around the room. Play that Benny Hill music.

A Big Breasted Blonde in a red bus costume enters the room and Big Blonde Man chases her. She gets mixed up with them.

A Policeman with his whistle. Get him in there.

Vladimir Putin lookalike. Throw him in.

Nigel Farage in a Hitler costume. Him too.

Donald Trump in a baby’s nappy. He’s got a rattle. Let’s have him.

Queen Elizabeth II looks into the room. She’s wearing that EU flag hat. She shakes her head and turns around.

FADE TO

Press conference. Michael Gove and Boris Johnson on the morning of Leave’s victory. You’ve never seen two men more disappointed to win.

Michael Gove (whisper to Boris Johnson)

“We’re so screwed.”

Boris Johnson

“Take back control Mickey. We’ve got to take back control.”

Terrible news from the Westminster Village business park today with the announcement that the popular fragrance “Imperial Nostalgia”, by Brexit (a subsidiary of the Brexit Industries group of companies), has been withdrawn from sale after wearers of the stench experienced thinking difficulties.

We spoke to one of the head product developers at Brexit to find out how this could possibly have happened.

”Beats me,” Mr A Dick said, “we tested the fragrance extensively for decades on ham based products of all kinds by repeatedly smashing a brick wrapped in a Daily Mail into their foreheads and all they smelt were classic English roses.”

But it seems that testing wasn’t extensive enough as since its release consumers of the populist product have had difficulties doing the most basic of tasks.

”We don’t think it’s our fault,” Brexit’s representatives went on, and on, and on, “it’s probably the fault of the Irish or the EU superstate tyranny and all their boring regulations relating to not getting people in Ireland killed just to satisfy the greed and arrogance of some complete asses like Rees-mogg and his kind.”

But whoever is to blame the symptoms related to use of “Imperial Nostalgia” are undeniable.

”We’ll muddle through,” the product designer reassured, “back in the lab someone is sure to hit upon the missing bit of magical thinking that explains how you can both be in a customs union and outside of one.”

Any early ideas?

”Yes. I suspect we need more imperial nostalgia mixed into the complete and utter con artist bullshit that is the core ingredient. If we can do that the Irish will just buckle under and do what they’re told, just like the French.”

Good luck with that.

”Do you want a complimentary bottle?”

No thanks, I enjoy being able to place facts side by side and draw conclusions. I don’t want your thinking difficulties.

“Remoaner. If you’d just wear imperial nostalgia stench we could make a success of this.”

A cross party committee of ultra, heavy, hard and completely f+cking deluded Brexiters have warned Remainers today that they’re running out of time to come up with a viable Brexit plan.

We asked the committee just how cross they were?

”Very.”

That’s very cross?

”Steaming mad.”

So you’re unhinged too?

”Like a broken door on a fridge in a back yard left to the foxes and brambles unhinged.”

So what is to be done about it?

”It’s the bloody remoaniacs. No imagination for how to make Brexit work. They’re just running down the clock until it collapses under the gravity of its own idiocy and greed and we’re not standing for it.”

You’re not standing for it any longer?

”No. we’re sitting down. We’re having a sit in.”

Where are you having the sit down-in?

”The listed address?”

It would be helpful to know where in case people want to bring you sandwiches laced with purgatives.

”Panama mostly. One address. Thousands of companies. Very effective.”

But you’re hoping to move the sit down-in to London?

”That’s the whole bloody point of Brexit. If these moaning EU tyranny lapdogs don’t get their thinking caps on fast and work out solutions to the unsolvable Brexit problems Parliament may take back control and stuff the whole con. It was a long con. We’ve invested a lot of time and energy, for years, to pull it off.”

Almost pull it off.

”We would have done it by now if the blasted Maybot and got her majority increased last year.

That’s the fault of treacherous remoaning remainiacs too. Lending all those votes to Labour thinking Corbyn would fight Brexit. Ha!

Corbyn being more powerful was part of the plan. Allegedly. Although I don’t know why Labour handed its entire voter database to Leave EU before the ref so they could target Brexit friendly Labour voters.

Who does know?

Corbyn was actually supposed to win the GE, we made the Tories manifesto so toxic! But no. Not enough EU moaners voted for him either. It was supposed to be a win-win even if we lost.”

This sounds a little confusing.

”A swindle is supposed to confuse its targets. But I don’t think the remainers are going to solve the problems we’ve created by not planning what came after any ref win.”

You’re sounding like me now. Doubting the project?

”It’ll still work. Just so long as all those people so obsessed with facts, reason and defending rule of law can be silenced before MPs find where their spines are.”

We better get to work fast.

”I’ve got a fag packet have you got a pen?”

No. I’m using a smart phone for this. Good luck. You’re running out of time.

”No. You are.”

To solve the problems you wanted and actively worked to create?

”That’s right. Stop moaning and get behind Brexit and push.”

Fat chance. Good luck. Tick tock.

Progress on post Brexit customs arrangements with the European Union finally with the news that May’s government is to settle on a viable proposal to put to the EU shortly, before their summit in June.

“The chaps over at DExEU have been working hand in hand with the cabinet to finally crack the nut,” Downing Street insider, A Potplant told us today, “and I tell you, it’s been like two Edward Scissorhands holding hands and choosing a kitten. Which was is fluffiest? Shall I pick it up or you? Really great team work and no harm done to pre-existing or future prosperity.”

Responding to the reassuring collection of words put together and released in sentences we asked what exactly was meant though, by crack the nut?

”What? It was just a figure of speech. That’s how we communicate with May up top. It’s not supposed to convey actual meaning when we use it, it’s just there to dazzle. Like her first one, Brexit means Brexit. Still golden.”

Okay. Understood. Nothing that comes out of the terrified chamber of delirium and mirrors that is May’s government is to be believed.

”Don’t you want to hear about our latest offer on customs?”

I can’t wait. Let’s have it. But please tell me it hasn’t already been rejected by the EU twice like the two you’ve spent the last few weeks arguing over?

”It’s all new and it will mean free and frictionless trade continuing cross borders once we crash out.”

This is good news. What’s it look like?

”Flying pigs.”

Excuse me? Another figure of speech which means nothing coming from your shower of an executive?

”No. Literally, actual flying pigs. It was Davis’ idea. He got it as he ate the worm from a bottle of Mescal in the subsidised commons bar. Bloody genius. And best of all the EU hasn’t rejected it yet.”

How is it going to work?

”We’re going to genetically modify pigs to grow wings. Train them to carry cargo and Bob’s your uncle! They’ll fly right over the channel if they know there’s a treat on the other side. Traffic can continue below unimpeded.”

So you’re saying after all the dead unicorns, after all the missing cake, Global Britain’s future is winged pigs?

”Yes. The best sort. As they can fly.”

 

LCD Views is just so bloody chuffed to be chosen to announce that the three Brexit tenors have signed up to sing “The People Had A Vote” at the United Kingdom’s funeral service to be held on the 01/04/2019.

Details of the service have been kept under wraps until now, largely because there are so few of them, but tickets will shortly go on sale for the funeral at a price point set by Labour Live to make it tricky for people on benefits to attend.

Conservative party members will be receiving complimentary tickets with this winter’s winter fuel payments, dependent on their post code. This means weird, working class Tories can expect to pay up front like everyone else.

The service is to be held on Westminster Green.

We spoke to the composer of “The People Had A Vote”, British-French-German songmeister N. Far-r-rage to learn more.

“I can sing it for you if you like?” He offered.

The entire song?

“God save our gracious vote, long live our noble vote,”

Sorry to interrupt you, but have you just ripped off “God Save The Queen” and swapped vote for queen all the way through?

“If you’ll let me finish…God save the vote: Send it victorious, fascist and laborious, long to reign over us, God save the vote”

We get the idea. You can stop singing now. In fact, it would be best if you did.

“O Vote, our God, arise, scatter thine enemies”

Please. We get the gist. It’s stunning. How much are the tickets for the funeral?

“Oh, it’ll cost everyone the same. Just the UK’s service economy, hi tech industry, agriculture, fishing, car manufacturing and the NHS. That ought to cover it.”

That cheap? What about parliamentary democracy?

“That too. That’s why I’ve called it the people had a vote. Proper British parliamentary democracy is already half buried, even though it’s a bit of a zombie and keeps trying to climb out of the grave we keep trying to shove it back in.

Throw some clods of dirt on its face lads!

Get the offshore, tax exile, right wing media owners to run some front pages with traitors! Let’s make London’s sole surviving industry the legitimising of kleptocratic wealth! That’s Brexit! Let’s bury the judiciary and the flaming Lords while we’re at it too.”

So who else is going to sing at the funeral for the United Kingdom?

“The radio four choir will all be there. All the way from Robinson to Marr and back. Although Humphrys will be centre stage as one of the tenors, alongside myself and trusty old Corbs. Hundreds of MPs far too gutless to defend parliamentary sovereignty against an autocratic, but otherwise clueless, executive.”

Oh, that is a scoop, we heard Corbyn was intending to abstain from the service because he has a small town hall meeting somewhere off the M4 to attend on the day? Or he was planning a camping holiday. Something like that. Plausible deniability.

“Jezza will be there. The day we bury the United Kingdom is the day we birth Brexitlandia. He wouldn’t miss it for quids. He’s been in labour since the 1970’s for this baby. He and May have already agreed to formally adopt this baby, even while it gestates.”

Fantastic. Thank you for your time. One more question. Why hold the service on the 1st April 2019?

“Because two days is about as long as we expect it’ll take between the end of the two year article 50 notification period for Scotland, Northern Ireland, Wales and Cornwall to bugger right off and put the union of the United Kingdom in the ground. Let’s party! All the way to the tax haven of the North Sea!”