And They’re Off! Brexit Negotiations To Bring Out The Best In Europe, Despite All The Screaming And Bloodshed And Stuff

Brexit negotiations got off to a troubled start this morning when EU negotiators failed to achieve the agreement of all 27 member states on whether to have croissants or pain au chocolat for breakfast. British negotiators rubbed salt into the wound by having a bacon sandwich and doing Inspector Clouseau impressions.

The contentious issue of whether the UK should pay a multi-billion pound divorce bill on leaving the union was put aside while debate raged over whether pickled herring is even a proper breakfast. French and Italian officials came to blows over who had the most attractive mistress while the Greeks took advantage of the confusion to steal the Germans’ wallets. The Germans responded by demanding the return of Alsace-Lorraine. Again.

Negotiations on the repeal of the common agriculture policy were suspended while David Davis rode around the conference hall on a bike while wearing a beret and a string of onions.

‘There is something reng with your fern…’ A crack team of French negotiators limber up for a go at the Brits.

This lead to a vote among the 27 member states on whether to unilaterally leave Nato, but the motion failed to achieve the necessary numbers because the representative of Latvia had gone to the toilet. They did, however, manage to pass a  retaliatory directive banning the sale and use of brown sauce.

Mr Davis responded by goosestepping around the table singing the Horst Wessel song, which amused the Dutch, causing the immediate re-militarisation of the Rhineland and the annexation of 26 tulip farms. Then the Danes punched the Swedes ‘just because we like doing it’ and the Finns wandered off to get drunk with the Irish, for much the same reason.

Asked to comment on the first day of negotiations an EU spokesman told the Mercury that events had gone ‘as well as we could realistically have hoped’, and that the process ‘demonstrated the close and instinctive bond that binds all the nations of Europe in harmonious union. Except the British, who we all hate now.’

 

War With Spain! Dalston Stikes First Blow In Gibraltar Conflict

Even before the a Royal Navy task force has had chance to set sail for the Mediterranean, Dalstonians have struck a first blow against the Spanish crown in what promises to be a pitiless battle for the land and very soul of Gibraltar. 

‘Yeah,’ said Dalston’s campaign leader ‘Lieutenant Commander’ Wayne Calhoun this morning, ‘we are very fortunate here in Dalston in that: a) we do not share a land border with Spain like them poor oppressed bastards in Gibraltar, and b) there’s loads of Spaniards over here – working in bars and that – what we can retaliate against without actually leaving the borough or getting shot at or nothing.

‘Loads of bloody Brazilians, too, who are just as culpable for the plight of Gibraltar given them and the Spanish speak the same language and do bull fighting.’

Lieutenant Commander Calhoun’s troops saw their first offensive action on Saturday when they set up a stall at Dalston’s popular Street Eats food market and cooked paella following a recipe devised by Jamie Oliver.

Several Spanish nationals and hundreds of other food lovers suffered ‘severe retching strains to the throat and abdomen’ as a result, and a passing Michelin Guide judge was pronounced dead at the scene. ‘Unfortunately he was French,’ said Lieutenant Commander Calhoun, ‘but they’re just as bad.’

Drunk tarts – Britain’s first line of defence against the Spanish conquistador

Other actions against Spanish colonialism are planned by Lieutenant Commander Calhoun’s crack troops. They include: inexpertly drinking wine out of those pointy bottles and letting it go all over the place on purpose and; ordering a plate of tapas and then, when the waiter brings it, shouting ‘Oi! Manuel! Where’s the rest?’ in a manner calculated to upset sensitive Latin types.

‘We’re also refusing to watch any of Michael Portillo’s railway programmes,’ said Lieutenant Commander Calhoun, ‘and are continuing our long-term programme aimed at weakening the Spanish population through sexually transmitted diseases which we deliver, by stealth, through the medium of British Club 18-30 holidaymakers in Magaluf.’

 

EU To Britain: ‘Brexit’s Off. Sorry’

The European Union has rejected the letter signed by Theresa May that was intended to formally begin the UK’s departure from the EU.

The letter is said by EU officials to be in breach of European health and safety directives and that, consequently, the UK will not be allowed to leave the union after all.

‘It’s too sharp and the corners are all pointy,’ said one Brussels bureaucrat this morning, ‘that letter is a potential deathtrap. Donald Tusk got a nasty paper cut from it and almost bled to death. And the paper’s not recycled, which is illegal, probably. So you can’t leave and that’s all there is to it.’

Conservatives have condemned the EU’s rejection of the letter, while Liberal Democrats have welcomed it. Labour don’t know what on Earth to think.

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In other news: After Astronomers at the Australian National University appealed to amateur stargazers for help in finding the solar system’s mysterious ninth planet, the head of the Dalston space agency DASA has told them they’re wasting their time because he found it ages ago.

‘Yeah,’ said Mr Clarkson Testarossa, ‘we definitively established the location of the ninth planet – which we named Dalstonia 7 – during preparations for our most recent deep space expedition which ended so explosively on the roof of Argos.

‘However, during our preparatory studies of the night sky I was on the roof of that massive tower block down Queensbridge Road from where, if you really crane your neck, you can just make out the southern hemisphere and the starry firmament above.

‘Happily I was using our most powerful optical instrument at the time (what my brother bought to watch that bird from Greggs who never closes the curtains) and wallop! There it is! The ninth planet, speeding past like nobody’s business.

Mr Testarossa began construction of a scale model of Dalstonia 7 and its moon Clarksonia 12, but became distracted

‘Big bugger too! I would estimate it to be around 10 times the mass of the Earth, and probably 20 times further from the sun than Neptune, give or take a yard.’

Mr Testarossa is hoping that his discovery of Dalstonia 7 will be rewarded by an honorary PhD or immunity from further prosecutions resulting from DASA’s recent activities and all the associated carnage.

 

Daily Mail Exclusive: Theresa May’s Legs Now Running The Country

Inspired by the Daily Mail’s groundbreaking coverage of negotiations between Prime Minister Theresa May and Scotland’s First Minister Nicola Sturgeon yesterday, the government has decided that the thorny issue of Scottish independence should be decided by a bake-off.

‘Yeah,’ said one Whitehall mandarin too priapic to be named, ‘after the Mail dedicated its front page to perving over pictures of two senior stateswomens’ legs we thought: ‘Phwoar, this is a lot better than referendums and reasoned analysis and that; let’s just get the ladies to scrub up a bit, strap on their aprons and decide the future of the union with a battle of feminine charm and culinary skills.’

Photo: the Daily Mail. Puerile smut: also the Daily Mail

It is proposed that, in addition to a classic Mary Berry Victoria sponge and a showstopper challenge, Mrs May and Mrs Sturgeon will compete in a cleaning-behind-the-fridge contest, will be judged on efficient delivery of pipe and slippers to husbands and will be required to laugh at men’s jokes in a manner appropriate to a golf club prize-giving dinner.

The swimsuit and evening wear rounds will only be contested in the case of a dead heat. A crack team of Ukip local councillors are presently drawing up the detailed rules of the competition.

Daily Mail editor Paul Dacre was invited to head the judging panel but said he’d rather watch the whole thing from behind a bush where his dirty raincoat will be less conspicuous.

 

Ban On Laptops ‘Will Save Lives And Agro’ – Local Hard Man

After UK and US airlines announced new carry-on restrictions to electronic devices, a Dalston cafe has responded to increased security concerns with its own ban on phones and laptops.

‘Yeah,’ said Reg Eel, owner of the Dalston Chop House and the White Horse pub next door, ‘regrettably we have received intelligence of a credible threat from Isis which means our customers will have to park their electric whatsits at the door. No exceptions. Regrettably.’

Mr  Eel, who last week celebrated three months without a single conviction, has in the past come to the notice of the local police for acts of extreme – if justified – violence against young fashionable people. But according to Mr Eel, his feelings toward young fashionable people have no bearing on the current ban whatever.

‘Nah, mate,’ he told the Mercury, ‘it’s fine if a load of unicycle-riding numpties want to sit around my gaff all bleedin’ day sharing one cup of tea while charging up their i-Pads and computers and that; filling up the tables with their massive bloody phones so’s my regulars can’t find a sodding seat. That’s absolutley bloody cushty with me, that is.

‘It’s just that, as a responsible business proprietor, I have to respond to the increased threat posed by murderous Islamists.

‘And if that means I have to give a right twatting to any bastard what comes in here, buys a digestive biscuit and then gets out his laptop and spends the next six hours running his organic yoga pant business, then so be it. The security of my customers overcomes all other considerations.’

Have you seen this bee keeper? Or any bits of him?

Mr Eel’s other business, the White Horse public house, achieved national fame during the EU referendum campaign when, after a spirited discussion on the merits of mass immigration with White Horse regulars, a 23-year-old urban bee keeper disappeared without trace. They found his monocle in the gents, but that was it.

 

Both Sides Of Brexit Debate Simply Refuse To Shut The Hell Up

A group of 72 MPs have written to the BBC accusing it of failing to be sufficiently euphoric in its Brexit coverage in the months since the vote on the EU.

‘Feather boas,’ fumed one pro-Leave Tory MP who signed the letter, ‘feather boas at the very least. Conga lines. Bunting. Party poppers. Is that too much to ask?’

‘The BBC is our national broadcaster, for crying out loud! 52% of the British people voted – soberly and despite substantial misgivings – for an uncertain future outside the EU yet the BBC absolutely refuses to take its shirt off, pop a couple of Es and party like its 1999!

‘Commie bastards! I’m refusing to pay my license fee until they collectively neck a quart of WKD and get jiggy with a complete stranger in a nightclub toilet.’

An artist’s impression of how the BBC’s Brexit coverage ought to look, featuring (l-r) Laura Keunssberg, Fiona Bruce, James Landale, Michal Husain and Andrew Marr (not pictured: Evan Davis splitting a speedball with Reeta Chakrabarti)

Westminster sources report that Remain campaigners are also planning to picket the BBC over the corporation’s ‘flagrantly triumphalist’ coverage of the Brexit vote. BBC political editor Laura Keunssberg (or ‘Thatcher in a kilt’ as she is known to Guardian readers) is to be specifically targeted for ‘constantly waving two fingers and baring her bottom in the direction of Donald Tusk. Or at least looking as if she wants to’.

Record numbers of despairing BBC executives have checked in to the Swiss Dignitas clinic this week. Others have joined Sky, which is seen by some as a better option than dying young, but only because the money’s not bad.

Mercury Seeks Failed Journalist Or Vengeance-Seeking Political Has-Been As Editor

The Dalston Mercury is proud to announce the appointment of its new editor: former Chancellor of the Exchequer and MP for Tatton, George Osborne.

In a statement today Mr Osborne said: ‘It is a great honour to be asked to take charge of one of the country’s great newspapers, and I vow to do for the Dalston Mercury exactly what I hope to do to Theresa May in the coming months and years.’

Mr Osborne’s first innovation as editor has been to cut the cover price of the Mercury from £1 to eighty pence, although this new price will only be available to first-time buyers of affordable new build houses provided they promise to vote Tory forever. Like all of Mr Osborne’s most generous give-aways this discount will be funded by the taxpayer.

‘The cover price will remain under constant review, however,’ said Mr Osborne, ‘and if the UK leaves the EU it will, of course, have to rise from 80 pence to three million pounds per issue, and hard-working families will be forced to eat their pets before turning on each other.’

The new editor has also vowed to broaden the editorial remit of the newspaper to cover areas outside its traditional sphere of interest. Or ‘Cheshire’ as these areas are collectively known.

George Osborne shows off his bold editorial stance yesterday

Readers can, therefore, look forward to reading the hottest news stories from the Tatton area, which may include: ‘Birth of Miracle Foal Thrills Gymkhana’, ‘Old Forge Tea Rooms To Close Early On Wednesday’ and ‘George Osborne Named Editor Of Tatton Clarion. Will Remain Bishop Of Bath And Wells. Conflict Of Interest Denied’.

 

Tony Blair To Save Us From Ourselves, Just Like Jesus Did. Hallelujah!

Stung by Donald Trump’s elevation to the position of ‘maddest world leader not currently running North Korea’, Tony Blair has vowed to reclaim the title or die trying. Or, at least, have lots of other people die while he’s trying, which is generally how he likes it. 

In a speech later today Mr Blair will direct the full weight of his personal popularity and unquestioned mastery of the facts toward persuading Brexit voters to change their minds on leaving the EU.

Mr Blair is slightly less popular with Labour and Conservative voters than Jeremy Corbyn or smallpox but, nevertheless, expects people to listen to him and trust his judgement on all things.

Tony Blair (centre, with halo) offers succour and forgiveness to Brexit voters, assorted sinners, whores and thieves. But not Gordon Brown

He is to announce his ‘mission’ to persuade Britons to ‘rise up’ and change their minds on Brexit, saying he wants to ‘build support for finding a way out from the present rush over the cliff’s edge’.

Mr Blair is the world’s foremost authority on rushing pre-emptively and with reckless abandon toward cliff edges, as the people of Iraq and many, many dead servicemen will cheerfully attest.

Fortunately, the former prime minister’s pathological narcissism means he has been able to courageously ignore the democratically expressed will of the people and put his bloody oar in.

A grateful nation is hoping he will be as successful in guiding us to our European destiny as he has been in sorting out the Middle East.

 

Diane Abbott Resets Nation’s Moral Compass With Heroic Resurrection

Labour shadow minister Diane Abbott has been lauded – yet again – for putting her lofty principles ahead of naked self-interest and political expediency. As she always does.

The European Union (Notification of Withdrawal) Bill was approved by 494 votes to 122 in the Commons last night, and now moves to the House of Lords.

But MPs have been unanimous in praising the heroics of  Ms Abbott who managed to take part in the vote despite severe health problems that would have floored any politician not possessed of her unshakeable moral courage.

Ms Abbott suffered the world’s first fatal migraine on Monday but, such was her determination to vote to leave the EU, she resuscitated herself with a stolen defibrillator before crawling to parliament on hands and knees, dragging her ventilator, a 300 kilo ECG scanner and two hospital porters behind her.

The sight of a partially naked Ms Abbott hauling several tons of NHS hardware through the Palace of Westminster made one Labour MP feel ‘physically sick with pride and admiration’.

International statesmen react to Diane’s soaring nobility of spirit

Fellow shadow minister Clive Lewis immediately resigned his post, humbled by the realisation he would never be able to make the kind of selfless sacrifices for his country that Ms Abbott makes routinely.

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In other news:  Donald Trump posted a tweet this morning threatening to nuke Shoe Zone and Barratts unless they agree to stock Ivanka’s surplus gaudy tat now that no-one in America wants to sell it.

Shoe Zone tweeted back: ‘We do have standards’.

 

Labour’s Debbonaire Tulips Threaten Boringly Named Tories

Labour has been accused of ‘smokescreen tactics’ over the party’s stance on article 50, the bill that triggers the process to leave the EU.

‘It’s completely unfair,’ whined one Tory MP last night, ‘nobody is talking about the utter shambles of Labour’s position; the press should be all over Jeremy Corbyn, but instead it’s all ‘Ooh! Look at the pretty names!’ and stuff.’

All of the MPs rebelling against Mr Corbyn’s order to vote for article 50 are possessed of extraordinarily exotic and beautiful names; among the most breathtakingly distracting names in the history of parliamentary democracy, in fact.

Shadow education secretary Tulip Siddiq came out against Mr Corbyn yesterday, to be followed today by Thangam Debbonaire and Daniel Zeichner (whose middle name is Florian. Probably).

For a time it was rumoured that Jeff Smith had also joined the rebels, but this has been strongly denied by the party. Clive Lewis is also keeping his head down.

A Labour rebel (right) gets to grips with the common agricultural policy

Zaphod Beeblebrox, MP for Harlow West, is expected to state his opposition to article 50 later today, as is deputy chief whip Hotblack Desiato.

They will be joined by D’Brickashaw Ferguson who, inconveniently, is an offensive lineman for the New York Jets, but has been temporarily drafted in by Mr Corbyn’s office anyway. For his unparalleled expertise in European trade law, or something.