'Brexit is no more. It's passed on, ceased to be, expired. This is an ex-Brexit'
Mr Britain: 'Ello, I wish to register a complaint.
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: We're closin' our minds for lunch.
Mr Britain: Never mind that. I wish to complain about this Brexit what 52% of me purchased not half an hour ago from this very boutique.
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Oh, yes, the Johnsonian Blue. Beautiful plumage, just needs a brush and regular exercise of its droit de seigneur. I sent my intern Mr Sunak over to stroke it for you this morning. What's wrong with it?
Mr Britain: I'll tell you what's wrong with it. It's been dead for 7 years, that's what's wrong with it.
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Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: No, no, it's a brilliant idea, does exactly what it said on the bus. (Looks shifty). Honest.
"Honesty? Cripes! What's that?" (PA Archive/PA Images)Mr Britain: Look, mate, I know a dead economy when I see one, and bus b******s or not I'm looking at one right now.
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: No, no, it's restin'! There's been a terrible avian 'flu going round, the Northern Ireland Protocol variant. Ooh, it's vicious, it is, collapses your Stormont assembly, ignites your Troubles, inflames your Paisleys. It's obviously had a bad case of Protocol and it's just restin'.
Mr Britain, looking doubtful: Well, we don't want inflamed Paisleys. 'Ow do we fix it then?
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Well, what you do is I get young Mr Sunak to say he's fixed it. That'll make it better.
Mr Britain: He'll just say he's fixed it?
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Yup, that'll do it.
"I dunno, mate, I've tried that only this mornin' and it's still just as buggered as it was last night" (PA)Mr Britain: Have you tried this before, perchance?
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Once a year. Works every time.
Mr Britain: Very well. (Rattles cage) ELLO, ELLO, LITTLE BREXIT? WAKEY WAKEY, YOU'RE ALL BETTER NOW, TIME TO GIVE US £350MILLION A WEEK FOR THE NHS AND MEGABUCKS GLOBAL TRADING DEALS! Let's be 'avin' you, come along now!
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Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Well, it won't do it if you talk to it like that. That'll agitate its Farage node. Causes angry pustules, that does, talkin' like that.
ALL the pustules (Humphrey Nemar)Mr Britain: Look, this Brexit was sold to me on the basis I'd be rich, there'd be no more migrants, and it was them Europeans causing all the poverty and the immigration and nickin' our jobs, right? Only now we've got rid of all them Europeans, and we're poorer, with worse jobs, medicine shortages, strikes, inflation, cuts, the wrong sort of migrants, and the NHS has not only been buggered backwards, it's got no-one to rub the ointment on. I was promised the easiest trade deals in history and an uptick in GDP. You persuaded me to spend £25m on a referendum, and it's since cost me £100bn a year in lost revenue.
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Well, give it a minute.
Mr Britain: A minute? Very well.
(They stare at each other for 7 years)
Mr Britain: Not 'appened yet, 'as it?
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Well, that's Northern Ireland's fault, that is. Them and their protocol. If it weren't for Northern Ireland the whole fing would be fine.
Mr United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland: So what you're tellin' me is if this country was a different country, and I should point out it was THIS country which was on the ballot paper, sunshine, the thing you sold us would work, would it? It'd get up orf it's back, restart all its metabolic processes, and we'd be sailin' the 'igh seas of global economics like Sir Francis Drake, would we?
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Well it won't work if you don't believe in it.
Mr Britain: Believe? I believe in queues, and tea, and dense hedging. I believe in scones and the Queen, gawd rest 'er, and the BBC. But the reason I believe in those things is because occasionally I get to see 'em, and all I've ever seen of Brexit is this corpse, which you must surely have noticed as well, paraded as it often is on the nightly news.
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Well all right then, try telling yourself it's a stunning success. That worked for the last person who came in here with a complaint.
Mr Britain: Pray, was that Mrs Truss?
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Yes it was, and she left very satisfied with how everything had gone. She even remarked how spiffing Brexit was lookin'.
"I want me flag back, an' all" (Getty Images)Mr Britain, grabbing shop owner by the collar and going nose-to-nose: Now look. I bought this Brexit in good faith, and it's eaten me GDP. It's taken me nursing staff and me trainee doctors, destroyed the haulage fleet and effectively amputated me Northern Ireland. Me province now exists in an alternate universe where an invisible border is rigorously noticed, and local government has collapsed because the DUP doesn't want to co-exist with the Brexit they voted for, because we all realised far too late that tearing countries apart tears countries apart. I took the liberty of examinin' the state of Brexit this mornin', and if you 'adn't nailed it to the walls of Parliament it'd be pushin' up the daisies. This Brexit was sold with a lifetime warranty so I want me GDP back, all right?
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Aren't you pining for the fjords? Can I interest you in a half-in, half-out Brexit like the Norwegians, or how about an out-but-in Schengen Zone, I'm doing a special on those at the moment. Or, or, or...
Mr Britain: This Brexit is no more! It's passed on, ceased to be, expired! It rests in no peace whatsoever! It's off the twig, it's kicked the bucket, it's shuffled off the mortal coil and only the most insane lunatics that can be scraped from the inner recesses of your foul emporium could ever say it's working! We need to run down the curtain and let it join the bleedin' choir invisible, because this is an EX-BREXIT!
Mr Tufton-Street-Loony: Oh, all right then. Toss it on the bonfire of red tape over there and once Labour's in we'll pretend they destroyed it. That make you happy?
Mr Britain: Well, so long as it's not my fault. See you soon, Mr Loony.
Fin
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