The government announced the best-ever ‘A’ level results today, as the iconic target of 100% was finally reached by the revolutionary method of awarding three ‘A’ grades to everyone in England.
“Today is a day for celebrating achievement,” said Schools Minister Jim Knight. “Let’s hope this finally shuts up the moaning minnies who say, year in, year out, that ‘A’ levels are being dumbed down.”
Along with the award letter, each household was invited to purchase ‘A’ grades in additional subjects for £1000 per qualification. As a result, although the whole of England achieved a 100% pass rate, exam results were still better in the prosperous south-east.
“A’m over the moon, me,” said a breathless 100-year-old Edna Hoggins of the Elysian Fields Rest Home, jumping up and down as a drooling TV news crew eagerly pointed their camera at her bouncing, droopy breasts. “Me school were burned down in a Zeppelin raid, y’knaa? A nivver thought a’d git tee one o’them posh universities. Us’re aal goen clubbin’ the neet, mind - so mind oot, lads!”
Edna’s 97-year-old friend, Mildred Grout, was in tears of joy and dementia as she was told of her three ‘A’ grades in Media Studies, Drama and Art History. “Are youse me dorta, hen?” she beamed, driving her mobility scooter round in ecstatic circles.
Meanwhile, Prince Andrew and his estranged wife, the Duchess of York, put on their best forced grins as they were ushered into the same room from opposite doors to announce their pleasure at the achievements of their 18-year-old daughter Eugenie, who has achieved a complete set of ‘A’ levels.
“We are overjoyed at the intellectual prowess of our daughter,” smiled proud father Prince Andrew, who had cut short a pleasant week of water-skiing to write out a large cheque. “For centuries people have called the royal family a bit thick, but Eugenie’s 246 ‘A’ grades should silence the critics. Go on, love, shake your baps at the cameras, that’s the ticket.”
Meanwhile, the universities report that clearing teams are considerably busier than usual, as hordes of triple-A achievers too dim to calculate the crippling debt burden of student life swamped their call centres.