News that heavily armed SAS troops are to be disguised as beggars and road sweepers has been greeted with alarm by Dalston’s most determined bigots and litterers.
The initiative is intended to combat Islamist terrorism but intelligence sources will neither confirm or deny that the special forces may also be authorised to pop a cap in the ass of anyone dropping chewing gum on the pavement or telling homeless people to ‘get a job you freeloading pikey’.
‘I spend a good part of my working day dropping crisp packets on the floor and abusing the itinerant jobless,’ said local crack wholesaler and part-time DJ Mr Calvin Calhoun this morning.
‘How am I supposed to enjoy the casual disposal of my lunchtime Cadbury’s Double Decker wrapper if I’m worried about being garroted by a member of Her Majesty’s special forces? It takes all the fun out of things.’
Mr Calhoun has suggested that the elite troops advertise their presence to anyone wishing to – for example – empty an ash tray out of a car window, by ‘doing press-ups’, ‘marching in formation’, ‘swinging across rope bridges while under heavy fire’ or ‘anything else that you hardly ever see road sweepers doing in the Hackney area’.
He also seeks guarantees that SAS soldiers disguised as beggars will ‘stick their guns out of their sleeping bags a bit so I’m not tempted to piss on them after a few jars down the White Horse’.
In other news: Heroic local MP Diane Abbott has revealed that type 2 diabetes was to blame for a string of car crash interviews she gave during the election campaign.
There’s no word yet on whether diabetes is also responsible for her egregious hypocrisy, casual racism or inclination toward shameless self-promotion. If it is, we take back everything we’ve ever said about her.
After inadvertently revealing that her hair is the source of her astonishing mental agility and unerring political instincts, car crash politico Diane Abbott has been urged to reveal the identity of her hairdresser so we can all benefit.
‘Yeah,’ said one Labour spokesman today, ‘we had all just assumed that Diane was simply born with her searing intellectual insight. But when it became apparent that her hair was making all the big decisions we had to act, for the good of the party and the nation.’
It became apparent during yesterday’s Andrew Marr show, that shape of Ms Abbott’s hair determines whether, for example, murderous conscience-free bastards who like to blow up innocent people are a good thing or not.
As an illustration of this extraordinary phenomenon Ms Abbott revealed to the BBC that her 1970s afro was wholly in favour of the IRA, whereas the kind of Darth Vader-effect bouffant she currently wears is implacably opposed to any kind of violent extremism. Which is remarkable. Not to mention convenient. Given that she wants to be home secretary and everything.
Theresa May is reportedly considering an emergency tonsorial procedure that will stop her spinning in pointless self-defeating circles and actually hit the biggest bloody barn door in the history of British general elections.
In a sweeping and radical five-year plan (or ‘Labour manifesto‘ as it is being referred to in public) Jeremy Corbyn has pledged to bring the Dalston Mercury back into public ownership ‘at the earliest opportunity’.
As with the rest of the party’s manifesto, which was launched yesterday, the cost of re-nationalising the Mercury has been calculated by a crack team of elves and fairies who live in a magical kingdom far, far away. And spend most of the time drunk.
The magic fairies estimate the bill for bringing the Mercury back into public hands as somewhere between ‘nothing at all and £50 billion, give or take, depending on whether we have to buy toner for the photocopier’.
Labour’s most sophisticated financial minds – those belonging to Diane Abbott and a small pot of Marxist geraniums – have checked the elves’ figures and declared them ‘absolutely spot on. Erm… oh, hang on though… is 50 billion more than £7.50? Erm… carry the four, divide by one and… look, stop asking me about numbers you racist bastard.’
In Other Election News:Twinkle-toed Unite union chief Len McCluskey has admitted publicly that he ‘can’t see Labour winning’ the general election.
Other astonishing revelations made yesterday by Mr McCluskey include: he ‘can’t see a set of patio furniture winning next year’s Grand National’ and ‘Len McCluskey’s chances of appearing on the cover of Sports Illustrated’s swimsuit edition modelling a daring slashed-thigh aquamarine one-piece are slim at best. Though still better than Labour winning the election’.
The British Stock Car Union (BSCU) has announced it is to sue the Labour party for bringing car-crashes into disrepute.
‘It’s outrageous what’s happening,’ said BSCU spokesman Jeff ‘Sparky’ Plugg this morning, ‘for over 50 years we have been providing wholesome family entertainment by crashing cars into one another.
‘Through our efforts people all over the country have come to associate the sickening crunch of metal, the cries of the dying and the distant wail of sirens with a good day out.’
Since the start of the general election campaign, however, the term ‘horrifying car-crash, many dead’ has become loaded with negative connotations according to Mr Plugg.
‘Bloody Diane Abbott!’ he said. ‘It’s mainly down to her that the word ‘interview’ is now invariably prefixed with the phrase ‘car-crash’. She’s taken something that was good and pure and turned it into a byword for political ineptitude.
‘And if it’s not her promising to provide a million new police officers at the cost of 12 pence it’s Jeremy-bloody-Corbyn pledging to spend billions on new nuclear weapons but maintaining his pacifist position by sending a letter to the Russians promising never, ever to use them.
‘And every time Emily Thornberry opens her trap the public hears the screech of brakes and the awful rending of tortured steel. But not in a good way. We want our brand back!’
Mr Plugg also has issues with Keir Starmer’s hair, but that seemed a bit beside the point to us.
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’.
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.
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.
London, Day Five: The country continues its silent vigil today as one of the nation’s foremost advocates of democracy, equality and buns hovers in that crepuscular realm between life and death.
Diane Abbott MP, who was struck down seconds before last Wednesday’s House of Commons article 50 vote, continues to defy the predictions of eminent medical authorities by resolutely refusing to croak despite her life-threatening headache and ruinous Hobnob intake.
Nonetheless, experts fear the saucy Marxist poster-girl may yet succumb to her condition, and a piano crate has been procured for the period of lying-in-state. A bloody big piano crate.
Washington DC, Twinned With Moscow: After first establishing beyond all doubt that Donald Trump knows absolutely nothing about cricket, the US president has signed an executive order making Steve Bannon the new captain of the England team.
Mr Trump didn’t realise what he was signing, and has no understanding of the long term implications of his actions, which is totally in line with current White House practice.
Outgoing England captain Alastair Cook said of Mr Bannon’s appointment: ‘Successful England captains of the past have variously been opening batsmen, middle order batsmen, seam bowlers, spinners, all-rounders and wicket keepers. But we’ve never tried a complete c**t before.
‘You never know, though – it might work; that immigration thing seems to be going well, after all.’
After two days of dire warnings and calamitous think-tank reports, sources within the shadow cabinet have confirmed today that not even Jeremy Corbyn will be voting Labour at the next election.
Following assurances by Unite union chief Len McCluskey that the Labour leader will be put against a wall and shot ‘unless polls improve pronto, Comrade’, the Fabian Society has also bailed-out on Mr Corbyn by claiming that only an electoral pact with the Monster Raving Loony Party, Ukip and the Khmer Rouge will rescue the party from electoral oblivion.
Scores of ethnically diverse social workers in the London borough of Hackney have also been spotted wearing blue rosettes and Theresa May-inspired leather trousers, another sign, according to Westminster pundits, that Labour may actually poll fewer than zero votes in the 2020 general election if Mr Corbyn remains in office.
It is reported that, in a desperate move to shore-up electoral support, Mr Corbyn and French president François Hollande have agreed to vote for each other in forthcoming elections. They reckon one vote each is better than nothing – two if they bribe Diane Abbott with buns.