The Sea, Just To The Left Of Cornwall: News that a British Trident nuclear missile veered off course during tests last summer has caused a diplomatic rift on two continents.
The missile, fired from HMS Vengeance, was intended to head for Africa, the navy’s traditional target for wayward ordinance, but instead set off for the USA entirely of its own volition. African governments are a bit conflicted about the news.
Interviewed after the incident the missile denied accusations that it had simply been trying to put the USA out of its misery before the election of Donald Trump, but no-one really believes it.
London, England, Where The Queen Lives: Brown food gives you cancer, according to new research. Also, yellow food makes your legs fall off and green food makes you vote Liberal Democrat whether you want to or not.
The race is on among farmers and supermarkets to discover more blue food, which is really good for you apparently, although a hint of aquamarine means you will die childless and alone on a singles’ cruise to Tangier.
Washington DC, America, Where All Hope Is Fading Daily: A campaign has been launched by concerned journalists following the debut of Sean Spicer as the official White House Risible-Fantasist-In-Residence.
The For Christ’s Sake Buy Sean Spicer A Suit That Fits campaign was started by Washington Post employees after Mr Spicer appeared on live TV wearing a suit obviously borrowed from a recently disinterred corpse.
‘Even allowing for the fact that he must’ve worn it for a bet,’ said one journalist who experienced the polyester garment up close, ‘the suit undermines the status and dignity of the office and of the country. Plus, the static it produces made our cameras go all funny.
‘I can take four years of lies, obfuscation and swivel-eyed hostility from Trump spokesmen, but the suit has to go. He looks like Don Corleone dressed by Primark. In the dark.’
The French and Italian governments have severed diplomatic relations with the US until the offending suit has been replaced. ‘By a burlap sack, if necessary,’ said one particularly catty French diplomat as he packed his bags.