LCD Views

There is to be an exciting response for the UK’s carmakers persistently bugging government for clarity on trading conditions post Brexit, with the announcement a front bench minister is being selected to call them traitors.

”This builds on existing Brexit policy,” A Turd 3rd, MP for Why-on-wie, junior minister at DExEU, told LCD Views when he dropped by the office to smash up some of our treasonous computers.

”We feel that by calling anyone quibbling over the bold and exciting future which Global Britain has embarked on traitors, we can better persuade others not to point out the glaring flaws and contradictions in our governance.”

It’s thought the robust response, when delivered with a coordinated editorial attack in The Express, The Daily Mail, The Sun and the now batshit crazy Telegraph, will do more than convince the diverse and international owners of the U.K. automotive manufacturing sector to invest billions into Global Britain.

”What’s the point of quibbling over conditions when you know the conditions will be cake?” Turd 3rd asked, “and the low hanging cherry fruit is ripe all the time in Global Britain. Pour your money in. We really do need you to.”

Its believed after the automotive sector has the “treason cut from its flabby flesh by the surgical precision of a Boris Johnson word salad”, the government will move democratically onwards into dropping facscist styled turd mortars onto the next quisling.

”The aerospace sector wants to watch out too,” Turd 3rd warned, “I heard that jumped up somebody yesterday, nattering away about just in time manufacturing, precision, the competitiveness throttling cost of warehousing spares.

Don’t think we don’t know they’re a nest of bloody fifth columnists also.”

LCD Views commends the government for the swift and truthful way it is dealing with the many unnecessary roadblocks being erected on the firm and trembling tarmac of Brexit by the bully boys in Brussels.

We encourage all big international investors and employers to pay the price for Brexit, regardless what their shareholders and employees may say, as we’re all Brexiters now, and furthermore, we’re all in it now. You don’t need certainty when you have faith. Thank you.

Britain’s mouldy cheese wheel, Iain Duncan Smith, has rolled himself out of the fridge and proposed a solution to the Irish Border problem, which until now, had seemed unresolvable.

“A seamless Irish border solution is readily available,” Irritable Duncan Syndrome droned, “people just have to show a little imagination and patriotism and get behind the country.”

But what is the solution Iain? Is it a construction of a physical manifestation of universal credit on the Irish Border?

“That sort of talk will get you into trouble. Traitor,” Irrational Debt Spend retorted, “you just have to look no further than the solution adopted by our good friends and neighbours on the Korean Peninsula.”

You do know they’re still technically at war, don’t you Iain?

“Getting lost in soundbites won’t help anyone,” Imagine Doing Something hit back, “The border between North and South Korea is a seamless border that utilities tried and test technology that has been in use for decades now.”

So you’re saying two armies facing off with thousands of artillery pieces ready to fire at a moment’s notice, and a massive aerial bombardment from the United States also constantly ready to fall from the sky?

“Oh, I don’t know if we need to involve the United States,” I Doom Spectre replied, “well, not at least until it’s time to start arms smuggling again.”

Thanks IDS, we don’t know what we’ll do if you ever get locked out of the BBC radio studios.

“Probably shout less at the radio while making your eggs in the morning.”

Wow. He actually said something provable and true.

Construction of the Road to Brexit, which goes from… somewhere… to… somewhere else, has apparently ceased. The reason is that costs have gone way over budget.

The illustrations are impressive, at least. They show a wide, sweeping expanse of glittering tarmac, elegant junctions, and hundreds of happy people in their cars. The only snag is that the route has not been defined. The map simply shows two dots, one marked “Here” and the other “Brexit”, and the Road, drawn freehand in crayon, more or less joins the two.

LCD’s Single Track Roads correspondent tracked down the construction headquarters with some difficulty. It turned out to be a shabby Portakabin in a field in the middle of nowhere. Cows munched the grass solemnly. There was no sign of the Road anywhere.

An old chap with an old spade and mucky wellingtons was in front of the Portakabin, digging a border. His name turned out to be Bill Droads.

Where is the Road to Brexit? we asked.

“It should be here,” replied Droads. “The first roundabout should be in the next field, and the main carriageway should be where you are standing.”

Should be? Should be? But this Road needs to be built immediately, doesn’t it?

“That’s right,” Droads confirmed. ”But construction has had to be halted before it has even started, because of cost overruns.”

How come? Nothing has been built yet.

“There has been a lot of money spent,” Droads said icily. “There’s the Managing Director, Finance Director, Marketing Director, a whole load of architects and management consultants, fancy offices in the heart of London, the works. There have been meetings, lunches, and a huge launch gala. All this has to be paid for. Unfortunately, nobody thought to plan a route or employ anyone to construct the Road.”

So it’s just you, in a Portakabin in a field?

“Yes. I even brought my own spade,” Bill confirmed. “They were too chicken to ask Carillion. I once tarmacked David Davis’ front drive so they asked me to do the job. But with no budget left I couldn’t do much. I can’t even ring up some mates to lend a hand as there’s no bloody signal out here!”

We decided to leave Bill to his border.

“Don’t tell them about the border!” he warned. “They will transfer me to Ireland!”

Rumour now has it that the Road will be orbital, like the M25. It doesn’t matter how far you drive, you always come back to where you started, sooner or later.