Written by Skoob1999
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Saturday, 24 December 2011

image for Plucky Brits Advised: - Enjoy Your Turkey - Next Year It'll Be Roast Rat And Pigeon Pie
Even Alf Starling, Worthing's Mr Christmas Will Have To Cut Back On His Santa Outfit Next Year

As Britain reels under the pulverising blows of the double-treble salsa cheesy dip recession, Chancellor 'Gorgeously Ugly' George Osborne warned legions of plucky Brits to enjoy their turkey this Christmas, because next year - if economic indicators prove to be reliable - our Christmas dinners will take on a whole new dimension, with cash-strapped citizens enjoying a festive feast of roast rat, pigeon pie, badger, or fox, as the squeeze tightens.

Analists (sic) project that in 2012, despite hosting the world running about a lot and chucking things championships in East London, by year's end we'll all be as poor as church mice, unable to afford the most basic necessities, and be forced to eat whatever we can catch, shoot, snare, or find lying dead by the roadside.

Probably accompanied by boiled toadstools, dandelion leaves, conkers, and bits of holly. With a few toxic berries for the better off.

With the price of petrol projected to rise to £250 a litre, it seems that even visiting family members will be out of the question for the average Brit, and with car parking likely to average £750 per hour, shopping trips appear to be on the way out as well.

Indeed, it appears that the only saving grace to loom ahead in the near future, will be that heating bills will be reduced as global warming really starts to kick in.

It isn't all doom and gloom though, as David Cameron announced plans to legalise bathtub gin manufacturing, and sell the product at a penny a bottle. Mr Cameron is adamant and perfectly clear that if the whole nation is permanently, spectacularly sozzled, then nobody will really give a toss about how bad things are, because we'll all be as pissed as farts, uncertain of that which is our arse and that which is our elbow.

Even Royal analists (sic) appear to be pessimistic about what next Christmas holds in store for the nation's first family. Some are of the opinion that the shrinking housing market, coupled with the nightmare scenario of negative equity, could result in the Royals moving into council accommodation on Stoops Estate in Burnley. The worst case scenario sees Padiham as a possible destination. Heaven forbid.

"It might not come to that," one analist (sic) told reporters. "But I wouldn't rule out relocation to Burnley Wood, Duke Bar, or Stoneyholme. At least up Duke Bar the royal family will have the opportunity to purchase proper meat pies, with Duke Bar being the home of the meat pie... and that."

However, a spokesman for the newly formed British Optimists Party (BOP Party) Innit Brilliant (Name changed from Albert Mulrooney by deed poll) was quick to rubbish the purveyors of doom and gloom.

"Bah, humbug!" Brilliant told reporters. "These naysayers are just trying to drag our wonderful nation down to their level. But we aren't going to fall for it. Bollocks to the lot of them. Britain is brilliant! We're a caring, sharing nation - when we're not rioting, looting, burning, or mugging the elderly - but that's beside the point. Our social structure means that we have a responsibility towards the elderly, the sick, and the terminally bone idle. We wouldn't stand for having people resorting to life in a tent, with no discernable help available to them. Unlike some countries I could mention. That's the difference between us and them - at least we'd give the poor bastards a crap second hand caravan. Or something. Anyway, MERRY CHRISTMAS everyone!"

Frosty the snowman was going to contribute to this news article, but sadly, he melted earlier this year. Cliff Richard and Elton John were also expected to contribute, but apparently they've gone out on the piss together in Northampton, drowning their sorrows in absinthe as neither of them hit the Christmas number one slot in the pop charts.

More next Christmas or as and when we get it. If we ever do. Ever do.

Aga doo doo doo push pineapple shake the tree....or something.

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The story above is a satire or parody. It is entirely fictitious.

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