PRAWNS IN A BIGGER GAME: Brexit bollocksed fisherman have driven to London in protest. Trade is floundering as their catches are caught up in a net of red tape.
Many are claiming that they are only flexing their mussels. New export rules brought in at the last minute have not been whelk-omed. They make it almost impossible to sell mussels to Brussels.
“We have been given the fish finger by the government,” said fisherman Rod Andline, crabbily. “Our catches have a short shelf life. If we can’t get it to market within a day, it’s worthless. Now it’s all tied up in loads of complicated paperwork. Nobody warned us about this! I don’t think the Brexiters who used us as a totem would recognise a fish if John Cleese slapped them into Teddington Lock with one.”
There is weeping and whaling beneath the anger.
“I’ve spent all my life at sea,” said Andline. “Now it looks like my business will be swimming with the fishes. I’m completely battered by the stupidity of the situation. I’ve had my chips. It’s a wrap, with salt, vinegar, and mushy peas.”
The porpoise of the Rules of Origin is to determine whether you are catching happy British Fish, or miserable foreign ones.
“If only they came out of the water grinning and waving a Union Jack,” observed Andline. “Now that would warm the cockles. Ever asked a lobster where it was born? There’s always a get-out claws. Every catch is now a catch-22.”
What’s your plan now?
“I’m going to drop off a large load of nice fresh langoustines at Number Ten for Boris Johnson,” replied Andline. “At least, they were fresh when I caught them last week. Then I’m going to set up a shell company and make a net profit.”
Fishing for compliments?
“No, administration,” admitted Andline. “There’s money in them there customs clearance forms!”
And a final message for Johnson and his team?
“So long, and thanks for all the fish.”