LCD Views

The shocking news has come in the wake of revelations that Bridgen is considered “thick as mash” by his colleagues. Now his constituency wants to be represented instead by the popular jacket potato outlet.

Mr Potato Head has had his chips. Bridgen is now sulking because a vote didn’t go his way, and he is threatening to vote against his own government, and his own Brexit, in revenge. To the good citizens of North-West Brexitshire, this is a Bridgen too far. He who pays the Maris Piper calls the tune.

So in future, the shop famous for selling baked potatoes will replace the shit famous for selling half-baked policies.

LCD Views was fortunate enough to speak to the manager of Spud-U-Like’s Ashby-de-la-Zouch branch, Stu Piddity. “It’s a great honour for the branch,” he remarked. “Of course, the shop will not be able to attend at Westminster, but we are thinking of opening a satellite franchise in the Members’ Lobby to provide tasty, nutritious snacks for our hard-pressed MPs.”

How will that work in practice, then, if the admittedly animate Bridgen has been replaced with an inanimate building? “Simple,” replied Piddity. “The shop will receive a live stream via some technological gizmo, YouTuber, or some such. Then the shop will vote by sending one spud for yes, two spuds for no.”

One potato, two potato? “Yeah, that’s right,” said Piddity. “No use being thin-skinned about it. Incidentally, did you know that the skin is the best part of a baked potato? Full of moral fibre.”

Piddity also revealed that he has been asked to provide a plate of mashed potato to feature on this week’s Have I Got News For You. Keep your eyes peeled for that.

So there you have it. We have reached peak Little England. At least a jacket potato is full of tasty goodness, as opposed to the empty shell that is Andrew Bridgen.

The cost of the best Brexit possible for the U.K. rose steeply again today with the announcement from Downing Street that all voters are to be issued with blindfolds.

“It’s our latest wheeze,” Ms Automoton, spokesdroid for Theresa May, told LCD Views only, “once everyone is blindfolded MPs will be able to look them in the eyes and tell them Brexit is worth it.”

The latest strategy to shore up Brexit, which is crumbling faster than a red, white and blue British shoreline, is also a boon for the exporting sector.

”This will definitely help our trade relations with China,” Ms Automoton said, “imagine being the state controlled factory that received the order for tens of millions of red, white and blue blindfolds? Amazing. It would help you reach a state dictated manufacturing output quota that even Jeremy and John would approve of!”

The blindfolds themselves will be issued as soon as the container ship arrives in Dartmouth.

”Of course G4S has won the contract to forcibly fit the blindfolds with a staple gun to the head of any treasonous remoaners who refuse to be blinded. That’s another win for private security firms living off the public purse! And a helpful nudge for the public as to how policy will be implemented after Brexit. Just imagine the increase in cost saving and productivity.”

We did ask Labour for comment on the blinding of Britain and were pleased by their quick reply.

”We think the blindfolds should be red comrade,” a talking potato told us from the cold soil of Magic Grandpa’s allotment, “but otherwise we’ve no problem with the idea in principle.”

Given Labour is still pumping out ‘jobs first Brexit’ nonsense it’s clear they blinded themselves to the reality of Brexit long before.

”Yes, sometime in the mid 1970’s, for sure.”

When your blindfold arrives be sure to book a surgery with your MP and then tie it on your noggin’.

What you can’t see, or refuse to see, can’t hurt you. Much. Well, maybe just a little. Actually. It could take your arm off.

Go blind for Brexit and help make a success of it.

The entire modern, compassionate Conservative Party is to be replaced by a hunk of salty gammon, one pot of mashed potato for brains and a gaggle of turnips before the next general election.

The decision has been taken to better reflect the qualities required by a party of government which is in reality just a policy implementation lever for the nest of dark money funded, hard right think tanks currently nesting at 55 Tufton Street.

”As part of the update the Conservative Party HQ will also move to 55 Tufton Street,” Mr Forkineye, spokesman for the Cons revealed, “the basement already currently acts as a hive of alien facehugger eggs. In here we push teenage Tories to ensure they are carriers of the party ideology. So it’s really just completing a move that’s been ongoing slowly for a long time.”

The move will also secure a more direct line of funding for the modern, caring Conservatives after traditional lines started drying up.

”Boris saying f*ck business, in fact our entire policy approach of f*ck every conceivable thing that is good on earth means we need to rely more heavily on the international clique of modern fascists to fund our psyops campaigns and trick people into thinking they live in a democracy still. By moving in with the think tanks we front for we can now just lean over and say, pass me the petty cash tin please Steve ‘white bedsheet’ B.”

When asked if they expected any pushback from Tory rebels over the move and the blatant nature of who is calling the shots, the spokesman just laughed. We took that to mean there will be the usual pantomime of resistence before capitulation.

Enquiries over whether or not Labour planned a similar move, say to an office in the Kremlin? We’re met with a smirk and an offer to work on a collectivised ‘jobs first’ allotment after Brexit.

British politics emptiest vessel, David Cameron, famous for allegedly shagging a dead pig in the head (we only mention this whenever we can because we’re gutter press), has spoken today in an imaginary interview about the fixed term parliament act.

“Pull the other one,” the vapid void chugged, “it’s got pork in it.”

The soundless cymbal’s guff was a retort to a question we put to him in all seriousness. That being,

Do you think the fixed term parliament act has emboldened some MPs to lie? Like, all the bloody time?

“I have no regrets.”

That wasn’t the question.

“I did not have sexual relations with that pig.”

That also is not the question. What is the question is do you think the fixed term parliament act, brought in under your premiership, has emboldened some MPs to lie through their teeth as they fear less the consequences? Who cares if you cheese off the electorate, five years as an MP is enough to pad the nest forever and off you go to your pension and non-exec board position?

“I figured five years was how long we needed to properly stitch up the doe eyed LibDems and then get back to two party politics.”

That’s a surprisingly honest answer, but you haven’t answered the question.

So again, so many MPs, from both Labour and Conservative, lie continually and provably to the public, is there any connection to the fixed term parliament act, brought in under your premiership, do you think?

“I don’t think. Well, not a lot. I do think about…are you any good at finishing off a memoir?”

Is it a memoir that ends in complete and utter failure, after a time as a PM during which you promoted people with misguided ideologies, zero empathy and set the country up for one of the greatest self inflicted calamities for a very long time, before buggering off into a shed you were happy to boast cost the average annual income?

“That’s the one. Don’t mention the pig though.”

I think we’ll let you stew on that one yourself. We’re sure you’ll pull through.

“I keep scratching away.”

David Cameron, thank you for your imaginary time.

“Where do I send the bill?”

A shocking leak suggests that Brexit, like Christmas, is cancelled. Michel Barnier and Theresa May have collaborated on the diabolical con. May will then present her “deal” as a perfect Brexit.

Maintaining the Status Quo will both satisfy all of May’s red lines, and ensure a steady stream of cheerful three-chord boogie songs for the foreseeable future.

Illusionist Picker Card was on hand to unpick this crafty sleight-of-hand.

“It’s just like magic!” exclaimed Card. “The whole problem is solved in one easy step. If enough of your audience believe their eyes, then facts don’t matter. Who cares that the rabbit you apparently pulled from the hat was, in fact, concealed in a secret compartment? People want to believe.”

This non-Brexit deal is one hell of a rabbit, though. But it makes perfect sense. Enough people want Brexit to happen, and will believe whatever suits their narrative. So tell them that Brexit has happened, and was a roaring success, and we have the deal we wanted, and Brexiters will celebrate.

Surely, though, there will be some who smell a rat? “Smelling a rat is better than having to eat one,” commented cynical commentator Doug Deeply. “If pulling the wool over people’s eyes is the best way forward, then so be it. After all, that has always been the way the whole pro-Brexit campaign operates.”

There remains the problem of forcing the non-deal through parliament. “No problem!” asserts Deeply. “May will tell parliament that she has the deal, and that the EU has capitulated and given us everything we wanted. Everyone will be so relieved that they won’t bother to read the document, just vote the deal through and go home.”

If something is too good to be true, it probably is. But in modern politics you go on gut feeling, not facts. So by the time anyone discovers that Brexit means remaining in the EU, and that they didn’t know what they were voting for, it will be too late.

Now give us our blue passports and let’s get on with life.

Damascus, the Syrian capital, is sadly a destination to die for. Quite literally, during the conflict. In an attempt to resolve matters at home and abroad, our very own ‘Mr Nige’ll Fixit’, Nigel Farage, is alleged to be planning a visit, having merrily used the refugees from the conflict to his own ends, he’s taking a hands on interest. That said, the man himself has immediately scotched these hopeful rumours.

“It is categorically not true!” thundered Farage from the snug at Ye Olde Trippe To Damascus. “I wouldn’t go there if you paid me! Now, if Arron Banks paid me, it would be a totally different story.”

Nevertheless, there have been sightings of a big red bus around the country, with the destination board reading ‘Damascus’ and the legend ‘We spend far too much money on overseas aid, let’s go on a jolly instead’ painted on the side.

LCD Views’ Foolish Female Feline Fancier correspondent, so named by BBC pillar Andrew Neil, Una Preciated, sent her cats out into the garden so she could investigate.

Within days her research had uncovered emails between Farage and both Viktor Orban and Recep Tayyip Erdogan that clearly indicated a joint visit to Syria. In an unashamed bid to become deputy editor, she described Farage’s Hungarian contacts as ‘No longer an Orban myth’.

Syrian Arab Airlines then disclosed to Preciated that Mr Farage had bought a return flight to Damascus that very morning. Naturally, we contacted him for comment immediately.

“Hang on a sec, I need to switch to airplane mode,” came that familiar voice. “There. Now, there is no truth that I am on my way to a road near Damascus, indeed I am broadcasting a pre-recorded show on LBC right now. Tune in if you don’t believe me. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to call Barnier to authorise my expenses.”

Hopeful observers are anticipating that Farage will undergo a Pauline conversion. The scales will fall from his eyes, and Pauline Farage will return, a changed man, and a champion of transgender and other PC gone mad! rights.