Britain has been transformed. The government’s infinite improbability drive to force Brexit through has changed the UK into a sperm whale and a bowl of petunias.
One of the biggest problems with Brexit is that everyone knows that the answer is 42, but nobody can agree what the question is.
The man responsible, who lay down in front of the bulldozers until he got a better offer, hitched and blagged his way to the top. Turns out he is as two-faced as Zaphod Beeblebrox.
The glorious and much lauded freedom from the conventional limits is, we are told, great news for the UK. Why, if you are a sperm whale, must you be restricted to the sea? Why can’t a plant escape the confines of a bowl? Why not throw off the shackles and take to the air?
“Believe in Britain!” is the cry. The unexpected transformation has left the country’s leaders floundering uselessly. A bit like a sperm whale in mid-air.
I believe I can fly, trilled Boris Johnson during his bonkers speech this week. One in a long line of surreal gags and corny catchphrases, at least Johnson’s comic credentials were enhanced.
It’s a shame that the top job in the country has gone to the court jester. His Ken Dodd impression was spot on, only the diddymen were missing.
So what if the UK is now split between an aquatic mammal and a houseplant? So what if we are falling rapidly to the ground? We can always blame the EU. Or diesel. Or a couple of white mice and the number 42.
The sperm whale half of the UK is happy and optimistic, enjoying the freefall. While the bowl of petunias half is more aware of the consequences. Oh no, not again.
Meanwhile, the EU has a parting shot for us: So long, and thanks for all the fishing rights.