Isn’t it delightful?! The Secretary of State for Environment, Food and Rural Affairs is being touted as our next Pee Em! Lovey Dovey Govey was quite beside himself with feigned loyalty when I pressed him about it the other day. “Donna,” he said, licking his scaly, piscine lips, “surely no one seriously thinks I could do a better job on the Brexit shambles than the incumbent, do they?”
I suppose there is some kind of hallucinogenically insane logic in having a dyed-in-the-wool flat earther at the wheel as we career towards our own self-imposed economic and social destruction, but as a minister of state I need to be awfully careful about impartiality, so let me also add that M Barnier does have a faintly off-putting whiff of garlic. Talking of whiffy French things, there’s a soupçon of nostalgia in the air this week, not least up in Welwyn. Drazzer clearly thinks three years is long enough for everyone to forget all those baseless allegations about Tesco verging on the mean side with suppliers from time to time, so he’s re-opening El Tel’s Discounter House interrogation centre. I dare say Frexit will be called in to give him a good probe but really, darlings, what can you do?
If the British public really does like nothing better than depressing, limited-range discounters then Her Majesty’s government has little choice but to listen. After all, trying to impose the wishes of the elite on the grey masses would be positively unethical. Unless you’re referring to the enlightened new Fat Kids policy I’m drafting right now. Oh George, do stop fiddling with whatever that is and think of a new name for it will you? No not that, the policy, you repulsive little mugwump.