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Thursday, 30 April 2009

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After a week's detailed analysis, aided only by caffeine and barbiturates, it is now possible to bring you the unexpurgated, euphemism-free version of Alistair Darling's Budget speech:

"Mr. Deputy Speaker, Honourable Members, and the scum in the public gallery, it is my sad duty to report that the nation is flat broke. Skint. Our finances are as sound as a council house roof. We have blown all our cash, maxed out on the credit cards and sold Grandma's pearls to the highest bidder. At this very moment, my Treasury officials are searching down the back of the sofa for any dropped change so that we can continue to feed the meter."

[Cue: the Prime Minister smirking on the Government front bench.]

"Mr. Deputy Speaker, it is also my onerous responsibility to inform the House that we have been obliged to pawn Her Majesty's Crown Jewels, at a little place I know in Edinburgh. Happily, we got quite a reasonable sum for them, easily enough to keep the Commons wine cellar fully stocked until the next General Election."

[Cue: Gordon Brown giggling and slapping his thigh.]

"Given that this terrible recession is all the fault of the Yanks under George bloody Bush, and nothing whatsoever to do with our own prudent and responsible economic approach, I will introduce a point-of-entry tax on American tourists of £20 per capita. This will raise approximately one million pounds in the coming year that we will reinvest in Lottery scratchcards."

[Cue: Gordon high-fiving Yvette Cooper-Balls.]

"Mr. Deputy Speaker, as this House must acknowledge, we've been just a wee bit too soft on all those rich bastards who have the audacity to think they should keep most of the money they earn. As they must realise, this principle applies only to Honourable Members, their civil servants, and those trade union leaders who still give money to the Labour Party. I therefore propose a 50% tax on all those wealthy enough to afford both the full Sky TV package and the services of a cleaner at least once a week."

[Cue: the PM cackling dementedly and ruffling Jack Straw's hair.]

"Moving on to employment, it is regrettable that the number out of work has risen in the last three quarters. However, think how much worse it would be if we had not created so many pointless jobs in QUANGOs (Quasi-Autonomous Non-Governmental Organisations) and local councils for the thousands of utterly useless pricks who would otherwise be flipping burgers at McDonalds or, more likely, going straight on the dole. Accordingly, we will continue to invent ludicrous vacancies to keep these ne'er-do-wells from hanging around bus shelters causing unrest."

[Cue: Mr. Brown rolling his eyes and foaming at the mouth.]

"Mr. Deputy Speaker, I am sure I reflect the opinion of the whole House when I pay warm tribute to our magnificent Armed Forces, whose courage and professionalism are unsurpassed. I have recently received a number of reports from Ministry of Defence SHITs (Services Housing Inspection Teams) that have raised serious concerns about the general standard of accommodation, so I am pleased to announce that a £50 B&Q voucher will be provided to the first serviceman to knock at the Tradesmen's Entrance."

[Cue: a nurse with a full syringe being denied entry to the Chamber.]

"Sadly, we cannot provide any money for the Gurkhas, as all available resources are taken up by the hundreds of thousands of Romanian gypsies, Somalian pirates and Pakistani student-terrorists that we have let into the country instead. But, moving swiftly on, this Government is determined to reduce our indebtedness and bring back stability to the economy. To this end, because the borrowing figures are so high that I have no idea what they mean, I have asked the Bank of England to print a trillion pounds by next Tuesday, whereupon I am flying to Las Vegas with Ms. Cooper-Balls to put it all on red. I commend this budget to the House."

[Cue: the Prime Minister bouncing up and down on the red bench, shrieking "They said I was mad...quite, quite mad!!! But I've done it: I've saved the world! Tomorrow, the universe...". Thoughtful men in white coats lead him away, still gibbering.]

None of the above is reported in Hansard.

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

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