Draft #64
I have just been to Buckingham Palace, where Her Majesty The Queen has asked me to form a new government, and I accepted.
First of all, I would like to thank Theresa May, my Right Honourable friend, for her principled leadership, and for finally resigning.
I never expected to become Prime Minister. Others might have prepared their first Downing Street speech years in advance, but not me. I was oblivious. Last week I was having my teeth whitened to match my anus. But now, the people have sort of chosen me to sort of lead them — like Winston Churchill, if he were me.
Guided by a profound sense of duty, I humbly offer my leadership during these trying times. I, Sir Alexander Boris Sergeyevich de Pfeffel Johnson, shall rise to the occasion.
In 2016, I campaigned hard for our country to break free from the shackles of the European Union. Now, in 201789, we are doing just that. Our fight against French-speaking septuagenarian bureaucrats has concluded in the best way possible — if you discount the scenario in which I take part in a threesome with Marine Le Pen and Margaret Thatcher’s ghost.
To those whining that Brexit will be the political equivalent of an auto-erotic asphyxiation ritual going terribly wrong, I say this: Stop threatening me, Pippa; I’ve told Marina everything! I hear you. Rest assured that we will vanquish those nefarious Euro-leeches, who suck our NHS dry, and, more importantly, do not allow us to sell curvy bananas.
It has not been an easy fight. My soon-to-be-ex-wife Some thought we had no chance of actually going through with it; but like that weasel Michael Gove’s chin, we’re still hanging on, against all odds. You may not want me, but here I am. Like my father on Christmas.
My leadership testifies to Britons’ determination to become free, independent and liberated, but not in that order. It is a new testament indeed, but I suppose you can also call it an old testament because it surely sparked violence and bigotry.
In *insert time here*, we will be on a path towards prosperity, forged by ancestral sacrifices and cosmic destiny. Whether bombing Adolf Hitler, beating Napoleon, or just messing around with some Indians who danced funny, Britain has always strived for dignity, greatness, and non-violently promoting our values around the world.
Britain has tolled the bell of independence, and it can now be heard all over the still-shocked European continent. From the cowardly French villages, all the way to the small Lithuanian caves, or whatever they use for shelter — the message is clear.
My job as your Duce Prime Minister is to build on the fantastic progress Theresa’s government has made (??). My government must also to ensure that we don’t re-start The Troubles in Northern Ireland, although I hear ‘90s remakes are doing well these days. These tasks represent a unique opportunity, probably for the UK as well.
It is imperative that we stay united. A crack has formed within the Conservative party. But I shall be present, right there in the middle of that crack, serving as an orifice through which radical policies may be discharged. Our past differences are immaterial now. There are no ‘Leavers’ or ‘invertebrate treasonous scummy little Europhiles’ ‘Remainers’ . We are one.
Together, we may build a better Britain. And now, allow me to recite some Rudyard Kipling, who, if my memory is as good as I remember, wrote movingly about the Blond White Man’s Burden.
This article appeared in CG Issue 63.