It might drag on for a while but surely we’re in the last crazy days now. The next stage is that Michael Gove will assure us the Government is united, while firing an air rifle at Liz Truss as she comes out of Downing Street.
She will rush back in to try and save herself – not realising that Grant Shapps has balanced a bucket of pig blood on the door that tips all over her.
On Sunday she spent all day making comments such as: “We MUST cut the top rate of tax. It’s ESSENTIAL, otherwise the country will run out of marmalade and then WE WILL ALL DIE. Nothing will prevent me, NOTHING.”
Three hours later she said she wasn’t doing it after all, because it was a distraction from other important things she had to do, such as cutting benefits to the disabled.
Because it’s the disabled who have taken all the money, with their dialysis machines designed by Ferrari and their Gucci walking-frames.
And once we’ve stopped that we can have GROWTH.
She’s so determined to give us growth, that in one day she reduced the pound to its lowest ever value.
Kwasi Kwarteng described this day as “turbulent”.
Now he insists it turned out all right because the pound is stable again, and all it took was £65billion to repair the damage they did.
It’s like Al-Qaeda walking round the site of the Twin Towers and saying: “It was turbulent for a day but it’s rebuilt now so what was all the fuss about?”
So the Prime Minister’s speech was all about her plans to destroy the “anti-growth coalition”. I can’t remember the exact words but it went something like this: “We could build 20 million houses on the English Channel. But anti-growth green regulations have banned building on the sea.
“We could turn criminals into donkeys like they do in a Japanese cartoon I saw. But the anti-growth European Court of Human Rights says it’s impossible to make someone become a drawing.
“We could get our energy from building a giant candle out of earwax, collected from people on benefits. But the anti-growth rail unions will refuse to transport it.”
For much of her speech, Truss sounded like a disturbed seven-year-old. She blamed “people who live in town houses in North London” for destroying growth.
And I expected her to carry on, “So I’m going to build a Godzilla to TREAD on their TOWN HOUSES so POO”.
The rest of her party knows she’s crazy but they don’t know what to do.
So she’ll carry on, like the last days of someone’s decline.
Most days we won’t see Truss at all, as she doesn’t get up until two in the afternoon, then drinks some paraffin and makes dinner out of a Weetabix and some tinned custard as that’s all there is left in the cupboard.
Occasionally she will crawl around the House of Commons, growling “Growth, growth, growth, growth”, while Kwasi Kwarteng doesn’t speak for three months, though friends will insist that all the Chancellor needs to be back to his normal cheerful self is another royal funeral.
