Category: Governing the people

LCD Views can report with a sense of tension not felt since the discovery of no toilet paper inside 10 Downing Street, that the bad cop of British politics, Dirty Theresa Maybe, has chosen a .44 calibre customs model with which to threaten to blow the United Kingdom’s economy’s head clean off.

And more, she’s set for a Friday showdown with the criminal gang of serial offenders she is the symbolic head off.

”She’s arranged a meet of the full outfit at a disused industrial mansion in the Buckinghamshire countryside,” a well heeled munitions supplier to Dirty Theresa told us, “she’s going to isolate them and pick any subversives off one by one.”

It’s expected before dispatching any disloyal member of her long running syndicate, she will first deliver the killer line,

”This is a max fac customs proposal. It has never been built or commissioned before. It’s incredibly complex and the IT dynamics of facial and number plate recognition likely to be used will all most certainly lead to a militarisation of the Irish Border on day one of implementation.”

She will then pause, to let the words hammer in, before continuing from a script committed to memory but not intellect.

”It will likely see the death of thousands of medium sized and small employers in the first year of operation, leaving the big players to gobble up and dominate.”

Another pause.

”Now ask yourself a question, punk, do I want collective responsibility in blowing the UK’s economic head clean off?”

Well punks, do ya?

LCD Views can report today about exciting progress on the memoirs of arguably Britain’s most famous twenty-first century statesman.

Speaking exclusively to Mr Cameron, during one of his rare visits to Blighty, the man famous for both attention to detail while in office, and chillaxing, gave one of our fictional reporters the inside scoop on his turgid opus.

“I like to think Churchill would be proud of my writing style,” Mr Cameron said, as we stood outside the shed, while he searched his key ring for the key to open up the modest, lawn dwelling.

“He was another prime minister who wrote. I’m not sure many people know that.”

Dave’s delightful shepherd’s hut, rumoured to have cost as much as the average annual income, was chosen as the location of the exclusive as it just epitomises the man so well.

“This is the bugger,” he muttered and turned the key in the lock, “it’s a bit rusty. Should I put some olive oil on it? Mind the cobwebs when you come in, I don’t spend a lot of time in here.”

So David, tell us about the exciting literary masterpiece?

“People said I cared too much about the working man,” Dave mused, appearing not to have heard the question, “but without appealing to the UKIP vote, by actually challenging the nativist, lie strewn path they hoped to force my party, and the country in general along, without that submission and sheer force of gutlessness on my part, what state would the country be in now? Not to mention all the Russian money poured into the party. I still haven’t figured out what all that was about.”

That’s an excellent question. We are sure your dedicated band of social media warriors will answer it for you.

Tell us about the autobiography though and why you haven’t just hired a ghostwriter?

“I’m a genuine man,” he answered, “what you see is what you get. I wanted to make the book authentic from cover to cover. It’s why I’ve skipped my early life and begun with chapter one, ‘Hugging Hoodies’.”

The hoodies will be very glad to get a name drop. What else is in it?

“The making of the hostile environment. How I appointed old Maybot to look good to the middle aged posh lady vote and then just let her have her head.

And what about that barnstorming effort in North Africa along with Sarkozy?

“I’m not sure I remember. I’ve eaten so much french cheese lately. My dreams are nightmares.”

You know, helping to depose Gaddafi because of Libya’s high position on the oil production table and then just hoping everything would take care of itself. No need for any Marshall Plans in the 21st Century.

“Oh that. I’m feeling a bit peckish. Let’s get some grub?”

Can we finish the interview first? What’s the Libyan chapter called?

“It’s a shame you know,” David replied, “Tony got such a bigger war than me. I’ve always been a little bit jealous of that. I guess I could have gotten us into Syria, but they are so low on the oil league, and anyway, then the USA got fracking and well…what would you like for lunch? Come on. I’ll have my man bring us up some foi gras?”

Can I see the wine list first?

“Ha! That’s what Sam calls my post office period. The whine list. As all I do is mope about the places we own blathering on about how do you finish an autobiography that ends in complete and utter failure?”

With a chapter titled, ‘Writer’s Block’.

“I”m using that. Red or white wine with lunch? Actually it’s not to early to pop a cork. Let’s have champagne.”

Please tell us what you’ve called the Libyan chapter first.

“If you insist. You’re as persistent as old George talking about balancing the books by shaming poor people into food banks. I’ve called the Libyan chapter ‘Mission Accomplished’. Now, it was champagne, wasn’t it?”

“Football means football,” a woman who sees it as her solemn duty to attach herself to England’s certain victory in the FIFA World Cup 2018 has written on a notepad.

”Football means football,” she repeats, several times, before adding, “and I mean to make a success of it.”

The speech is being prepared in advance and according to those in the know will be delivered regardless of the actual outcome of England’s 2018 campaign.

”England winning the World Cup is a tangible benefit of Brexit,” she will also say, “as we move forward as one nation with the other nations within our one nation subdued into their rightful positions of being subservient to my government, England’s victory brings glory and renewed national pride to Scotland, Northern Ireland, Wales and Kent.”

Football means football.

Queries as to whether or not it will be wise to claim England’s success if they lose have apparently been dismissed.

”What actually happens is no longer important to those in government,” the insider observes, “What is important is how the people will emotionally interpret events. We aim to make a success of it.”

So even if England should make a seamless, smooth and orderly withdrawal from the World Cup before the final, the speech will be delivered as written in advance?

”Yes. Once May constructs something in her mind reality must be made to fit or she can not function. Football means football.”

Will Germany’s early exit get a mention in the speech?

”Of course. No matter how many decades have passed, no matter what the current generations of German people may or may not have done to move on and make reparations for past generation’s horrors, your government is determined to whip up the gammon voting Brexit supporting electorate with constant reference to this awful chapter in our shared history. Germany’s premature exit only strengthens our hand in the Brexit negotiations.”

But South Korea knocked them out.

”And we aim to make a success of it.”

The bomb squad were in action this afternoon after concerned residents of a strong Leave voting constituency called the emergency services after spotting an unattended pineapple.

”Me life flashed before me eyes,” Mr Gammy Gammon told our community care correspondent, “I were just out taking me dog Mangle for a drag down the high street when I caught sight of the pineapple in the reflection of the reflection of my mirrored sunglasses.”

The emergency services did release an audio recording of Mr Gammon’s frantic call, but it’s so breathless we’ve decided to save you the effort of listening. Just imagine a man panting after running for his life and hiding behind a class of school children on an excursion.

Another caller described the incident as “squeaky bum time.”

And Arrrron ‘all the r’s’ Hedgefund said the experience was,

”worse than that time I was stuck at the boarder in North Ireland with a broken homophone.”

The pineapple was apparently removed by the bomb squad and has been taken away to be destroyed in a controlled explosion before the rings will be battered and fried.

The bomb squad also responded to requests for an interview,

”Seriously? It was my first day off in over a month and I’m lying there on the sofa just about relaxed for the first time in weeks when I got the call regarding the bomb scare,” a spokesman said, “I grabbed my gear and scrambled to meet my team at a rallying point near to the incident only to discover it’s a gaggle of BBC Question Time audience wannabe’s terrified of some fruit? Talk about a waste of time and good adrenalin.”

We asked Mr Gammon what he thought of the bomb squad’s comments?

”Do they even train these people? This is life and death. If that pineapple had gone off God only knows what could have happened to the complexions of the entire neighbourhood. And to think they used to rent these dangerous devices out for parties? It’s a bloody good thing society has become more civilised, is all I can say.”

The wisdom of the collective of Little England MPs within the Westminster parliament was on full show today in a little studied clause of the EU Withdrawal Bill.

”That dragon is gone sunshine,” MP for pervs, C Chope cheered, as speaker Bercow read out confirmation of her maj putting her x on the bill.

The removal of the dragon from the Welsh flag was seen as part of the current favoured Brexit among cabinet, the so called ‘F*ck Wales First’ Brexit, which takes its inspiration from the words of world famous human impersonator Boris Johnson.

”We’ll be lifting the bloody kilts up and tearing them off the Scots next!” Chope shouted, smart phone in hand.

Other measures targeted at Wales, after the breaking of Tory promises to do with rail electrification and now the Swansea tidal lagoon, will be the roll out of wholesale de-electrification across the valleys.

”They can burn whale blubber for all I care!” Chope sallied on, “and we’re going to turn that Swansea bay into a bloody nuclear fuel dump. F*ck Wales!”

While Chope was clearly in unstoppable form, he wasn’t alone, as Bone, Mogg, Davis and a bunch of other complete and utter baggy pant stains cheered and hollered, before calming down and wondering how many bottles of champagne to celebrate with over lunch.

As to how Wales was taking being dumped on by Westminster yet again wasn’t clear,  as no one at the BBC could be arsed to find out.

”More castles for Wales!” Chope shouted, now in a bit of a lather, “Edward the first knew how to deal with the Welsh and Little England has not forgotten!”

A new, lean and fighting fit mean United Kingdom is all set to handshake a smash and grab trade deal with Trump’s USA today after the announcement that both chlorine and poultry have been stripped from the British periodic table ahead of US trade deal talks.

”This will help make a success of Brexit,” true believer and obsessive airmiles fancier Doctor Liam Fox told LCD Views this morning.

We spoke to the best known doctor of trade at a VIP lounge at Heathrow as he waited for international man of mystery Boris Johnson to return from his vital mission to Kabul.

”He’s nicked some of my air miles,” Fox fumed, “and I’m not taking that lying down.”

The move to take out unhelpful elements ahead of the all important trade talks next month, when flaccid faced destroyer of juvenile futures POTUS arrives in Blighty, is all part of a bigger strategic vision.

”Certain whinging, metropolitan elites have been suggesting that this element and that element may disrupt a smooth and orderly agreement of new trading arrangements with our international partners post Brexit, so we’ve acted with our trademark wisdom.”

You mean issues like disruption to supply lines and country of origin rules? That sort of boring technical thing that only boring remoaners care about?

”What? What’s rules of origin? I’m not handling immigration.”

Google it Liam.

”What’s google? Look, Boris will be here any moment. He’s big but he’s evasive and I want my air miles. Do you want to talk trading futures or not?”

Is trading futures related to market manipulation?

”What? Look. Nobody seems to like chlorine or chicken. It’s a recurring theme to do with swimming pools and water. Well, if it’s in the way of Brexit Britain’s future it’s out!”

Any other elements to go?

”We’ve divided the cabinet to assess it. I suspect the truthful element went years ago. But I can tell you what’s going in.”

Please do.

”Cheeseburgers and Diet Coke. Trump will be pleased. We’re going to invent a yellow element called Trumpeean too. Have the Queen unveil it.”

Doctor Fox, thank you for your time.

”Time is an element we’re running out of.”

We know Liam. We know.

Former Tory party leader and baked potato impressionist William Hague had made a dramatic statement about his drug use. He claims to be able to come off smack at a moment of his choice.

The one time Tory Boy has become an advocate for cannabis use recently. Cannabis, apparently, is good for pain relief.

“Yes, I have been easing my pain with pot for years,” remarked Hague. “It hurt me deeply to recall the embarrassment of my Tory Boy days. Thank goodness I grew out of it, unlike Jacob Rees-Mogg.”

LCD Views checked Hague’s assertion with medical expert Dr Anna Tomical. “Cannabis can numb you,” she agreed. “But it also causes memory loss. It is worse than alcohol, and almost as bad as red meat and cheese.”

We take it that you are a vegan Dr Tomical?

“Naturally. I would recommend it to everyone. Mr Hague would be much healthier and happier on a vegan diet.”

Does being vegan make you live longer?

“Probably,” she replied. “It certainly feels like it.”

“I don’t hold with namby-pamby veganism,” Hague counters. “I’m from Yorkshire! Yorkshire born, Yorkshire bred, Strong in t’arm and thick in t’ead, that’s me. Anyhow, my time as Tory leader was also excruciating, so I needed something stronger than cannabis. Heroin. That stuff gave me a real shot in the arm!”

Isn’t it horribly addictive though?

“I’m a Yorkshireman, I’m tough as old boots!” he said. “I could quit whenever I want to, but still the memories keep coming back.”

So you increase the dose?

“It’s the only way,” asserts Hague. “I take drugs to forget, to forget that I am ashamed, ashamed that I take drugs. It’s a perfect cycle, why do you think Liam Fox is eagerly making deals with shady South Americans? Theresa is on tranquillisers, Jeremy C. Hunt likes MDMA, and Boris sniffs up so much rubbish we nicknamed him Henry.”

But these drugs are illegal, why are you advocating drug usage?

“We have lost the war on drugs,” he slurred. “We lost, so may as well get over it and suck it up. Preferably through a bong. No point losing your head, when you can get off your head instead!”

At this point Hague excused himself, saying he thought he still had a functioning vein “downstairs”.

It’s ok to take drugs. Roll up! Roll up!

Master Bater, a chief Tory whip, was in an upbeat, if exhausted, mood today after successfully forcing enough potential Tory rebel MPs to cave by use of the Tory ultra violence, project fear film “JC4PM”.

“They crumble faced with just the outside chance of that old commie placard holder taking high office,” Master Bater told LCD Views during a tour of the ConHQ dungeon, “it’s not even really brainwashing, more just showing them what keeps them awake at night. Which is just as well, my palms are sore enough from the day to day work of slapping and beating members to keep them in line behind the old Maybot as it is.”

In the dungeon we were allowed to see many of the chief tools used by the whips.

“See this row of old cinema chairs here? And that screen set up over there. Mind the projector. Yes. Yes. Come around the front. Take a seat if you want.”

We declined the offer of a seat. The restraints on the arms looked like they could hold the strongest in situ.

“We put grievance Grieve in this seat. Captain Morgan in the one next to him. And a few others. Restraints at wrists, calves and foreheads. Force the eyelids open and just let the movie play.”

In the movie a Corbyn lookalike goes through the various duties of a modern British prime minister.

“The actor playing Corbyn followed May closely for a few weeks, to really learn what it takes to be the UK’s prime minister in the age of Brexit. You know, party before country, ideology before rationality, cynical appeals to various voting demographics, smooth and orderly choking off of economic viability, say xenophobic stuff about foreign workers. It doesn’t actually matter who is prime minister. The day to day activities will be the same. With the exception of course that Jeremy Corbyn as PM would raid the City of London’s coffers with McDonnell. But under May we’re content to let it all slowly flow away to EU27 countries without anyone really noticing. Rees-mogg will tell you how to set up in Dublin, just get him on the blower.”

How long does it take to force a rebel to cave in, faced with JC4PM?

“Dominic fell to his knees just seeing the chair and being told what we were going to show him. We still strapped him in for good measure. But about ten seconds normally does it,” Master Bater shrugged,

“except for Ken Clarke, we had him strapped down here for a week solid and he just laughed and laughed. He told us after serving under Thatcher there’s sod all we can put on the projector to cause him to buckle. His internal movies from the 80’s are more terrifying than any cinematic masterpiece we could knock out, whether it features a giant dildo or not.”

LCD Views can report from a state of near rapture today that the mysterious Brexit dividend has been identified as finding out just how many useful, and useless, idiots were elected to Parliament on June 8th 2017.

”Three hundred and nineteen at last count,” an aide to soon to be ousted speaker, John Bercow told us, “they just had another of those vote things. You know, when MPs pretend they still matter, but really they’re just there for appearance sake.”

Apparently the number isn’t static though and changes day by day.

”It depends on which way Labour think the wind is blowing any given day,” the aide continued, “that banner held up by the kids freaked Jezz out a little, so they decided to come out strong today, bargaining the so called Tory rebels would fold like deckchairs again. It was a good gamble. Not exactly a long shot, but it paid off if you look at their activists on Twitter.”

But why do the Tories keep folding like deck chairs on the Titanic?

”All mouth and no trousers,” the aide said, “they want to get down on record they were paying close attention as their government crashed the country hard into the wall of reality. About as close attention as they were paying when the hostile environment policies were passed under their noses.”

We’ve heard too the Tory whips have a phrase that is as powerful as kryptonite against most Tory MPs playing superman?

”Yes. Jeremy Corbyn will be prime minister. Scares their pants brown.”

So what’s to happen to parliament now the MPs have voted to make themselves almost pointless? Based on the assumption the government will replace Bercow with a pliant ERG Borg psycho as whip before year end?

“The public is set to save millions. It’s a real Brexit dividend. Westminster MPs are to be replaced by curtains, as they’re only window dressing now anyway.”