Massive terrorist training facility uncovered in London's Canary Wharf

Written by feedthemoon

Sunday, 12 December 2010


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With their credit default swaps and their naked short selling, they may not possess the terrifying allure of a phoney Al-Qaeda - but they are better trained; state-protected and they take down whole countries and their economies with ruthless ease and impunity.

And while the Daily Mail and the Times try to whip-up Middle Class indignation against student anarchists; these 'fanatics' are attacking the self-same outraged middle-classes every day - and getting away with it!

From their sleek offices in the heart of London's business community they direct their worldwide terrorist operations. It is from here that they are sent forth into the virtual world of international finance; strapped with virtual bomb-belts and suitcases full of deadly toxic bundles - they are modern-day martyrs, only too willing to do the bidding of their spiritual leader: The IMF, who they believe is the earth-bound representative of their ferocious god, Mamon.

Their reward is the Promise of an eternity of sleek cars; champagne; and hard-bodied virgins to serve their every whim (well, maybe not virgins: probably pole-dancers from Essex). They are well-trained, stoney-hearted and let off the equivalent of a million financial dirty-bombs every day

'But don't let's concern ourselves with them', said the editor of the Murdoch-owned Sunday Times, yesterday:

"What our readers want to get worked up about is something fleeting; something that ultimately will be forgotten: Something engineered! I mean, what about that upper-class hypocrite who pissed on the cenotaph?! That's something REAL for our readers to whinge about in their comfortable saloon-bars on a winter Sunday afternoon;

"They don't want to bother themselves with depressing things like their children's future's being sold-off, and their pension being raided. After all, who really cares about a few trillion stolen by bankers? And besides, there's always the X-Factor or strictly Come Dancing final to worry about."

Amen to that. - And mine's a G&T!

You fat twat.

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

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