LCD Views

LOVE THE CRIMINAL, HATE THE CRIME: Hopeless hapless Foreign Secretary Dominic Raab has been rushed to hospital with burned ears. What’s left of the NHS has patched him up and sent him packing. 

Why were his ears burning? Not because lots of people have been talking about him. No, the natural heir to the great Chris Grayling has been getting in on the act, and attempting to use a burner phone. 

“Everyone is doing it,” bleated a defeated Raab, a wreath of smoke still gently rising from his lugs. “All the other ministers have a burner phone, so I thought I would come to the party, so to speak.” 

You’re on fire now, Dom. 

“No, just smouldering gently,” he said. “I don’t know what went wrong. I followed the instructions to the letter. I procured an ancient Motorola handset, and used Govey’s blowtorch to ignite it, and here we are!” 

No smoke without fire. 

“I just don’t know where I went wrong,” he despaired. “My ears have been really badly singed! It’s a good job I was bald already!” 

You’ve been badly burned. 

“What I don’t get,” he whimpered plaintively, “is how old Jimmy Bethel isn’t scorched all over like me!” 

Lord Bethel is only the latest miscreant to mysteriously change his phone as soon as the courts decide they need to see it. Unlike Raab, he clearly knows what a burner phone is. And he doesn’t want to get his fingers burned. 

Meanwhile the It’s All Greek To Me Office has moved quickly to ensure that The Boss is kept away from all kinds of telephone. And computers. And televisions. And the office. Just to be on the safe side. 

Unconfirmed rumours from the impeccable Downing Street source suggest that Raab has been trying to send smoke signals, using candles. Unconfirmed unconfirmed rumours suggest that he has merely succeeded in burning off his ear hair. 

RED OR BROWN SAUCE : The British Prime Minister Boris Johnson has been forced to take time out from his walking holiday in Scotland to respond to reports of an outbreak of cannibalism in a Surrey supermarket.

“Good thing I’m hundreds of miles away! Ha! What! Ha!” the PM said initially, before ruffling his hair more insincerely and adopting a more sober face.

While reports of cannibalism were anticipated as a natural consequence of leaving the European Union, it had been expected they would be financial, with key international players devouring the UK alive. Additional incidences of the country’s lawmakers eating whole the democratic processes they embody were also forecast. Actual cannibalism this early in the process is something of a shock.

“Shows you what the experts know,” Mr Johnson shrugged, “of course I’m appalled, appalled at the ah, um, the Medusa like spectacle in the Surrey fresh produce aisle. I urge all Britons not to eat each other regardless of how severe the breakdown in supply chains become. Why the great GREAT AND NOBLE tradition of pottage making for peasants is clearly a viable alternative to a full basket at Marks.”

But when pressed as to how the government would respond to prevent the outbreak worsening Mr Johnson hid in a nearby hedge. Reporters were able to locate him in time, in spite of his hair blending seamlessly into some thistle plants that had finished flowering and were dishing out that white fluffy stuff.

“Look, it’s perfectly straightforward. The EU is punishing us for Brexit. They’ve done this with their tedious and legalistic obsession with keeping promises agreed to in international treaties. Rather than ruin my afternoon shooting grouse you’d be better off phoning up the stuffed shirts in Brussels.”

The press seemed strangely persistent though, so the PM was forced to fall back to the standard government position on anything at all now.

“We’ve had the fastest vaccine roll out in Europe! We couldn’t have done that without Getting Brexit Done! What’s a little bit of cannibalism between patriots! It’s the taste of sovereignty.”

NOW YOU SEE NO YOU DON’T : Residents of the little patriotic town of Bitchling Deacon, in Tory held NorthSouthWest Sussox, are to hold a bunting dressed ceremony later today to celebrate the next stage of Brexit.

The cause celeb is the local Tesco superstore which landed outside the town like a behemoth flying saucer in 2011, and eliminated all independent family food based businesses. Since then it has been the focal point of the community whose traditional industries include which burning and the immolation of other words which indicate choices.

Local dignitaries are expected to attend the ceremony which will involve the regional Conservative Party chairman beating himself in the face with a brick, before he presses the button to lower the upbeat, silver cardboard superstructure in place.

Quite what the town will do for food after the empty store is hidden from view behind the massive structure isn’t yet clear, but industry experts suggest they are ahead of an important National curve.

“The hiding of the superstore will allow the locals of Little Bitchling to get a head start in the vital post Brexit industries of hunting and foraging,” Mr Spaffcox commented, “and cannibalism. If they hone their skills early they’ll have a distinct advantage over neighbouring tribes and will have full bellies until Priti Patel is placed into a medical coma and the end of FOM reversed.”

The ceremony itself is open to all but attendees are encouraged to attend maskless and huddle so the other great Conservative project, using the pandemic to conceal Brexit supply chain issues, can continue unabated.