Beleaguered British troops in Afghanistan's turbulent Helmand province wept tears of joy today, when prime minister Gordon Brown arrived in their midst for an surprise photo-opportunity.
"Hullo, boys!" grimaced a scantily-clad Mr Brown, crossing and uncrossing his stockinged legs whilst riding round the camp on the bonnet of a Land Rover. "I know just how much you love my morale-boosting visits, so I thought I'd give you something special this time!"
After seductively flashing his man-boobs at the stunned soldiers, the Prime Minister dismounted and ducked coyly into a tent, urging them to "form an orderly queue!"
Back in the UK, Lord Mandelson called a press conference to explain that the idea for the visit had come from the prime minister himself.
"Gordon has spent his holidays out of the public eye, marooned on an unihabited, rain-swept isle in the Hebrides," explained Lord Mandelson. "He has had a lot of time to reflect on all the blessings that have come his way since becoming PM, and on his inspired leadership. When the prevailing wind finally changed, enabling him to sail an improvised raft back to civilisation, Gordon's first thought was for the troops who love him so dearly - as he explained in great detail to a small yapping dog that was running up and down the shore. That dog is now Britain's ambassador to the Animal Kingdom."
"I think I can safely say that all of Britain's recent woes will soon be over," he added, smiling enigmatically.
Meanwhile, the enthusiastic troops in Afghanistan carried their naked, proud Prime Minister at shoulder height across the camp, strapped a parachute to his back and whisked him off in a Chinook helicopter for a closer look at some of the Taliban strongholds they are struggling to quell.
"We've put him right by the door so he can get a clear view," said a sergeant on his third tour of duty in the Middle East. "Several of my longest-serving colleagues are right behind him, with their shiniest boots on. They've been involved in several big pushes in the past, so they know exactly what to do when the occasion arises. Let's hope Mr Brown keeps a firm grip on the safety harness we've rigged up for him out of bits of string and old newspaper. It really would be a terrible tragedy if he were to unaccountably slip and fall out of the helicopter from a height of, say, a thousand feet whilst passing over a known hotbed of Taleban activity, miles beyond all hope of rescue."
The sergeant was interrupted by the sound of cheering from the radio tent, no doubt occasioned by Mr Brown's sudden, unscheduled drop-in visit to the warzone.
Saturday 29 August 2009
Media World At War
The world's two media superpowers are on the brink of war today as Silvio Berlusconi, the prime minister of Mediaset, accuses News International dictator Rupert Murdoch of massing his columns and briefing his leaders for a sneak attack.
Berlusconi launched pre-emptive libel strikes at dawn on Murdoch's allies in Italy, France and Spain, which have recently seen increasing assaults on Mr Berlusconi's reputation. He is also said to be considering plans to invade Britain's libel courts, once the continent has fallen under his heel.
"I am the legitimate head of a domineering multimedia empire which controls public opinion by constantly showing tits, tits and more tits," said an indignant Mr Berlusconi. "How dare this gangster Murdoch accuse me of being a corrupt politician? I am a corrupt emperor, no less, and anybody who contradicts me will be smothered to death live on TV between the heavenly breasts of my legion of MEPs!"
Mr Murdoch, meanwhile, was too busy patting his ten-year-old son James on the head for his recent daring attack on the BBC to respond to the Mediaset chief's threats.
"Don't worry, punters of Britain," said little James Murdoch later, as he showed off his shiny new bicycle. "My daddy and me will save you from the dual horrors of free news from the evil BBC and a terrifying onslaught of wobbling Italian tits. There's more plucky, firm, 100% British tits in the Sun!"
Berlusconi launched pre-emptive libel strikes at dawn on Murdoch's allies in Italy, France and Spain, which have recently seen increasing assaults on Mr Berlusconi's reputation. He is also said to be considering plans to invade Britain's libel courts, once the continent has fallen under his heel.
"I am the legitimate head of a domineering multimedia empire which controls public opinion by constantly showing tits, tits and more tits," said an indignant Mr Berlusconi. "How dare this gangster Murdoch accuse me of being a corrupt politician? I am a corrupt emperor, no less, and anybody who contradicts me will be smothered to death live on TV between the heavenly breasts of my legion of MEPs!"
Mr Murdoch, meanwhile, was too busy patting his ten-year-old son James on the head for his recent daring attack on the BBC to respond to the Mediaset chief's threats.
"Don't worry, punters of Britain," said little James Murdoch later, as he showed off his shiny new bicycle. "My daddy and me will save you from the dual horrors of free news from the evil BBC and a terrifying onslaught of wobbling Italian tits. There's more plucky, firm, 100% British tits in the Sun!"
Friday 28 August 2009
Britain Drunk Again
Britain woke up this morning in the Mediterranean, lying face-down in a stinking puddle of regurgitated beer, according to a spokesman for the Know Your Limits Campaign.
The badly-soiled nation staggered groggily to its feet, banging its aching Scotland against Italy and the Greek islands before wandering off in search of a beach bar somewhere on the Costa del Sol.
"On average, when Britain is on holiday it drinks its own weight in cheap booze every two days," mumbled public health minister Gillian Merry, stumbling unsteadily around in her piss-stained knickers and a flip-flop with a bag of ice clasped to her forehead. "But what's wrong wiv that, I arsk yer? Gotta 'ave a larf, incha? You gotta problem or summink? Fucken bastarzz... aah... cor fackinell, look over there at that Ibiza, eh? Izzat fit or wot? Oi, 'ansome, cop a load of these babies!"
"Every year Britain arrives in the Mediterranean with a single aim: to get smashed out of its tiny mind from the moment it arrives until it gets back home," said Spain. "Is it really so terrible to be Britain nowadays that the only way to endure its miserable existence is to drink itself stupid every single day?"
NHS experts warn that if Britain continues its alcoholic binge, its health will suffer the consequences.
"If Britain doesn't start looking after itself, it could suffer from advanced Manchester failure or even a fatal Glasgow attack," said India, a senior consultant. "And, of course, it could easily wake up one morning to find itself fucked, but with no idea of how it happened."
The badly-soiled nation staggered groggily to its feet, banging its aching Scotland against Italy and the Greek islands before wandering off in search of a beach bar somewhere on the Costa del Sol.
"On average, when Britain is on holiday it drinks its own weight in cheap booze every two days," mumbled public health minister Gillian Merry, stumbling unsteadily around in her piss-stained knickers and a flip-flop with a bag of ice clasped to her forehead. "But what's wrong wiv that, I arsk yer? Gotta 'ave a larf, incha? You gotta problem or summink? Fucken bastarzz... aah... cor fackinell, look over there at that Ibiza, eh? Izzat fit or wot? Oi, 'ansome, cop a load of these babies!"
"Every year Britain arrives in the Mediterranean with a single aim: to get smashed out of its tiny mind from the moment it arrives until it gets back home," said Spain. "Is it really so terrible to be Britain nowadays that the only way to endure its miserable existence is to drink itself stupid every single day?"
NHS experts warn that if Britain continues its alcoholic binge, its health will suffer the consequences.
"If Britain doesn't start looking after itself, it could suffer from advanced Manchester failure or even a fatal Glasgow attack," said India, a senior consultant. "And, of course, it could easily wake up one morning to find itself fucked, but with no idea of how it happened."
British Diplomat Tells US Envoy to Afghanistan: 'Foreign Interference is Unhelpful'
Lord Pantsdown has criticised Richard Holbrooke, the US special envoy to Afghanistan, for complaining to President Khazi about the widespread use of fraud in last week's elections.
"As a British diplomat, I'm here to tell America and Afghanistan that foreign interference is unhelpful," said the former special envoy to Bosnia, Liberal Democrat leader, SAS officer and secretary-shagger. "Criticising the blatant rigging of a presidential election could de-legitimise the West's mission to promote democracy. War is peace."
As the clocks were striking thirteen, Lord Pantsdown continued: "What both sides need to bear in mind is that this is a country where democracy, if it can be said to exist at all, is weak and superficial. Central government is hated and despised by the people. Venture ten miles from the seat of power and you're in bandit country, where centralised authority is constantly challenged. For years now this god-forsaken country has endured a succession of powerless, self-important presidents, who are widely regarded as nothing more than the ineffectual puppets of powerful, shadowy vested interests.
"As for the impoverished, backward masses scraping a precarious living out in the vast, empty hinterlands, they have no real understanding of the world beyond the limits of their own horizons. They are brainwashed from an early age by their elders, who force them to memorise a simplistic, moralising creed that was written down long ago in a different era. Rather than thinking for themselves about the complex issues facing their corner of the world, they are conditioned into seeing everything in simple terms of right and wrong. As a result, they are easily persuaded to follow any manipulative demagogue who jumps up and promises them heaven on a plate. They are told that so-and-so is their sworn enemy and that their cherished way of life is under threat - and so, in their ignorance, they beat their chests in self-righteous anger and swear vengeance on their supposed tormentors."
"You only have to look at the history books to realise that if the mighty British Empire failed dismally in its efforts to impose its will on these medieval hotheads, any present-day attempt at restoring sanity to this benighted land is probably also doomed, eventually, to ignominious defeat," he concluded sadly.
"And Afghanistan's quite ghastly, too," he added.
"As a British diplomat, I'm here to tell America and Afghanistan that foreign interference is unhelpful," said the former special envoy to Bosnia, Liberal Democrat leader, SAS officer and secretary-shagger. "Criticising the blatant rigging of a presidential election could de-legitimise the West's mission to promote democracy. War is peace."
As the clocks were striking thirteen, Lord Pantsdown continued: "What both sides need to bear in mind is that this is a country where democracy, if it can be said to exist at all, is weak and superficial. Central government is hated and despised by the people. Venture ten miles from the seat of power and you're in bandit country, where centralised authority is constantly challenged. For years now this god-forsaken country has endured a succession of powerless, self-important presidents, who are widely regarded as nothing more than the ineffectual puppets of powerful, shadowy vested interests.
"As for the impoverished, backward masses scraping a precarious living out in the vast, empty hinterlands, they have no real understanding of the world beyond the limits of their own horizons. They are brainwashed from an early age by their elders, who force them to memorise a simplistic, moralising creed that was written down long ago in a different era. Rather than thinking for themselves about the complex issues facing their corner of the world, they are conditioned into seeing everything in simple terms of right and wrong. As a result, they are easily persuaded to follow any manipulative demagogue who jumps up and promises them heaven on a plate. They are told that so-and-so is their sworn enemy and that their cherished way of life is under threat - and so, in their ignorance, they beat their chests in self-righteous anger and swear vengeance on their supposed tormentors."
"You only have to look at the history books to realise that if the mighty British Empire failed dismally in its efforts to impose its will on these medieval hotheads, any present-day attempt at restoring sanity to this benighted land is probably also doomed, eventually, to ignominious defeat," he concluded sadly.
"And Afghanistan's quite ghastly, too," he added.
Wednesday 26 August 2009
Restless Shade of Mary-Jo Kopechne 'Looking Forward' to Kennedy Reunion
Planet Earth is in mourning today over the untimely death of Senator Cuddly Teddy Bear Kennedy, the greatest statesman the world has ever seen.
The youngest brother of legendary cock-dipping President John F Kennedy, the heroic Edward Bear first came to public attention in 1950, when he was thrown out of Harvard for cheating. A stint in the US Army followed, in which he earned the respect of his superiors in Paris for his fearless single-handed assaults on the mimeograph machine while his less well-connected compatriots were dying in droves in Korea. Concerned that his son and spare back-up presidential candidate might succumb to a lethal paper cut, his bootlegging, Britain-hating father explained to the Harvard authorities who he was, with the happy result that Little Ted was readmitted to the faculty, graduating summa cum easy in 1956.
When young Edward Bear's philandering brother became President in 1960 - where he would carve himself a special place in American hearts, bravely forging a new era of world peace by launching a failed invasion of Cuba, bringing the world to the brink of nuclear Armageddon and sending tens of thousands of 'military advisors' to Vietnam - their father Joe succeeded in persuading the governor of Massachusetts to allow a family friend to keep the freshly-vacated Senate seat warm until Little Ted was old enough to sit in it, rather than going through all the fuss and bother of giving it to somebody with a different surname. Cuddly Teddy duly inherited his place in the Senate in 1962, and remained comfortably superglued to it until his death.
In 1964, a twin-engined plane in which the fresh-faced senator was travelling crashed on landing, killing the pilot and an aide. Edward Bear was dragged from the wreckage, still glued to the senatorial seat - the weight of which may have caused the crash, according to some conspiracy theorists who doubt the official explanation of lightning unaccountably bringing down the unearthed plane. The impact left the backup Kennedy suffering from lifelong spinal weakness - which was to resurface spectacularly on the night of July 18, 1969.
On the fateful night, Edward Bear was attending a party on the small Massachusetts island of Chappaquiddick when he suddenly realised he was very tired and had to leave so suddenly that he was unable to wait for his chauffeur to finish his meal. A young aide of his brother Robert, Mary-Jo Kopechne, was also struck with a sudden overwhelming urge to leave the party (and her hotel keys and purse), and gratefully accepted a lift. Shortly afterwards, their Oldsmobile left the road to the Edgartown ferry, driving along a dirt track whose bumps and hollows went unnoticed by the tired but capable Senator Kennedy, until it missed a bridge, slid into a water-filled channel and sank upside down, taking the 22-year-old Kopechne to her death.
After struggling free from the wreck, the brave Cuddly Teddy was suddenly troubled by a recurrence of spinal weakness and decided - after sitting down for fifteen minutes to consider how best to rescue his drowning passenger - to stroll back to the party for assistance, declining to knock on the doors of four houses along the way in case they were inhabited by Republicans. When he and others returned to the scene of the accident some time later, they heroically decided to do nothing, leaving Senator Little Ted to swim back to the mainland, check into his hotel and call it a night, somehow forgetting to ring the authorities and report a fatal accident. When he woke the next morning he tried to phone the police, but somehow kept misdialling and getting through to various sympathetic friends.
Eventually, two fishermen notified the police later that morning that there was an overturned car in the creek. A police diver found the drowned Kopechne inside, where she had apparently survived for several minutes with her head in a pocket of air before dying - long enough to be rescued - while Edward Bear was heroically collecting his thoughts. Senator Kennedy was traced as the owner and taken to Edgartown Police Station, where he dictated a statement to his aide Paul Markham, apparently mistaking his employee for a police officer. He was subsequently charged with leaving the scene of an accident after causing injury, rather than third-degree murder, perjury and driving to endanger - charges which might well have inconvenienced his father - and sentenced to two months suspended. The Kopechne family decided not to take legal action following a damning inquest, claiming that "we figured people would think we were looking for blood money." Instead, they accepted $90,904 from Little Ted and $50,000 from his insurance company.
Unfortunately for the saintly Edward Bear, the incident was unfairly raised by Republicans, Communists, anarchists, liberals, devil-worshippers and people with long memories when he stood for the Democrats' presidential nomination in 1979. Tragically for the Kennedy dynasty - and, by extension, America - the party decided that even lame-duck president and failed jogger Jimmy Carter was less of a liability, and went on to hand the leadership of the free world to a third-rate amnesiac actor from Hollywood.
Undaunted, Cuddly Teddy went on to single-handedly bring peace to Northern Ireland, frequently appearing in Irish pubs clutching a tankard of Guinness as far from his nostrils as possible whilst waiting for photographers to appear. In fact, the senator often took valuable time out from his re-election campaigns to visit Northern Ireland for a pint of ditchwater and a few holiday snaps for the folks back home.
He recently appeared at President Barack Obama's inauguration ceremony, coincidentally inspiring numerous commentators to compare the forthcoming presidency to the golden days of Camelot, but without Marilyn Monroe jumping out of a cake before dying in mysterious circumstances.
Little Ted's untimely death from a brain tumour now leaves a Kennedy-shaped hole at the heart of American politics for the first time since the 1930s, although it is probably only a matter of time before younger members of the patrician family rise again to remind Americans of their increasingly-diluted genetic link to the greatest dick-waving president in history.
The youngest brother of legendary cock-dipping President John F Kennedy, the heroic Edward Bear first came to public attention in 1950, when he was thrown out of Harvard for cheating. A stint in the US Army followed, in which he earned the respect of his superiors in Paris for his fearless single-handed assaults on the mimeograph machine while his less well-connected compatriots were dying in droves in Korea. Concerned that his son and spare back-up presidential candidate might succumb to a lethal paper cut, his bootlegging, Britain-hating father explained to the Harvard authorities who he was, with the happy result that Little Ted was readmitted to the faculty, graduating summa cum easy in 1956.
When young Edward Bear's philandering brother became President in 1960 - where he would carve himself a special place in American hearts, bravely forging a new era of world peace by launching a failed invasion of Cuba, bringing the world to the brink of nuclear Armageddon and sending tens of thousands of 'military advisors' to Vietnam - their father Joe succeeded in persuading the governor of Massachusetts to allow a family friend to keep the freshly-vacated Senate seat warm until Little Ted was old enough to sit in it, rather than going through all the fuss and bother of giving it to somebody with a different surname. Cuddly Teddy duly inherited his place in the Senate in 1962, and remained comfortably superglued to it until his death.
In 1964, a twin-engined plane in which the fresh-faced senator was travelling crashed on landing, killing the pilot and an aide. Edward Bear was dragged from the wreckage, still glued to the senatorial seat - the weight of which may have caused the crash, according to some conspiracy theorists who doubt the official explanation of lightning unaccountably bringing down the unearthed plane. The impact left the backup Kennedy suffering from lifelong spinal weakness - which was to resurface spectacularly on the night of July 18, 1969.
On the fateful night, Edward Bear was attending a party on the small Massachusetts island of Chappaquiddick when he suddenly realised he was very tired and had to leave so suddenly that he was unable to wait for his chauffeur to finish his meal. A young aide of his brother Robert, Mary-Jo Kopechne, was also struck with a sudden overwhelming urge to leave the party (and her hotel keys and purse), and gratefully accepted a lift. Shortly afterwards, their Oldsmobile left the road to the Edgartown ferry, driving along a dirt track whose bumps and hollows went unnoticed by the tired but capable Senator Kennedy, until it missed a bridge, slid into a water-filled channel and sank upside down, taking the 22-year-old Kopechne to her death.
After struggling free from the wreck, the brave Cuddly Teddy was suddenly troubled by a recurrence of spinal weakness and decided - after sitting down for fifteen minutes to consider how best to rescue his drowning passenger - to stroll back to the party for assistance, declining to knock on the doors of four houses along the way in case they were inhabited by Republicans. When he and others returned to the scene of the accident some time later, they heroically decided to do nothing, leaving Senator Little Ted to swim back to the mainland, check into his hotel and call it a night, somehow forgetting to ring the authorities and report a fatal accident. When he woke the next morning he tried to phone the police, but somehow kept misdialling and getting through to various sympathetic friends.
Eventually, two fishermen notified the police later that morning that there was an overturned car in the creek. A police diver found the drowned Kopechne inside, where she had apparently survived for several minutes with her head in a pocket of air before dying - long enough to be rescued - while Edward Bear was heroically collecting his thoughts. Senator Kennedy was traced as the owner and taken to Edgartown Police Station, where he dictated a statement to his aide Paul Markham, apparently mistaking his employee for a police officer. He was subsequently charged with leaving the scene of an accident after causing injury, rather than third-degree murder, perjury and driving to endanger - charges which might well have inconvenienced his father - and sentenced to two months suspended. The Kopechne family decided not to take legal action following a damning inquest, claiming that "we figured people would think we were looking for blood money." Instead, they accepted $90,904 from Little Ted and $50,000 from his insurance company.
Unfortunately for the saintly Edward Bear, the incident was unfairly raised by Republicans, Communists, anarchists, liberals, devil-worshippers and people with long memories when he stood for the Democrats' presidential nomination in 1979. Tragically for the Kennedy dynasty - and, by extension, America - the party decided that even lame-duck president and failed jogger Jimmy Carter was less of a liability, and went on to hand the leadership of the free world to a third-rate amnesiac actor from Hollywood.
Undaunted, Cuddly Teddy went on to single-handedly bring peace to Northern Ireland, frequently appearing in Irish pubs clutching a tankard of Guinness as far from his nostrils as possible whilst waiting for photographers to appear. In fact, the senator often took valuable time out from his re-election campaigns to visit Northern Ireland for a pint of ditchwater and a few holiday snaps for the folks back home.
He recently appeared at President Barack Obama's inauguration ceremony, coincidentally inspiring numerous commentators to compare the forthcoming presidency to the golden days of Camelot, but without Marilyn Monroe jumping out of a cake before dying in mysterious circumstances.
Little Ted's untimely death from a brain tumour now leaves a Kennedy-shaped hole at the heart of American politics for the first time since the 1930s, although it is probably only a matter of time before younger members of the patrician family rise again to remind Americans of their increasingly-diluted genetic link to the greatest dick-waving president in history.
Tuesday 25 August 2009
Inner Cities Like Something Off The Telly, Says Shadow Home Secretary
Parts of Britain are now so unspeakably blighted that they now look like something from the film Escape From New York, or possibly Return of the Living Dead, according to a leading Tory front-bencher.
Shadow home secretary Chris Grayling said that the UK now suffers from the same culture of gangs and undead hordes as the US, with the police fighting an "urban war" as violence and zombie cannibalism becomes "the norm and not the exception".
"The government is responsible for a decade of failure that affects the poorest in society," he said. "It is the poor who are the ones who have borne the brunt of the surge in violence and rampaging corpses under this government. It is they who struggle to live their lives against a constant fear of crime and having their brains eaten."
Mr Grayling pledged that a Conservative government would release a cynical war veteran with a grudge against society from prison to lead them out of their ghettoes, only to die within sight of safety on the mined roads leading to suburban safety.
"Failing that, we will rain enormous nuclear shells down upon the inner cities of Britain, sparing the poor from the pain of being dead," he promised.
"I get all my best ideas while watching films on the telly," said Mr Grayling brightly. "Just wait until I unveil my plans for the future of law enforcement."
Shadow home secretary Chris Grayling said that the UK now suffers from the same culture of gangs and undead hordes as the US, with the police fighting an "urban war" as violence and zombie cannibalism becomes "the norm and not the exception".
"The government is responsible for a decade of failure that affects the poorest in society," he said. "It is the poor who are the ones who have borne the brunt of the surge in violence and rampaging corpses under this government. It is they who struggle to live their lives against a constant fear of crime and having their brains eaten."
Mr Grayling pledged that a Conservative government would release a cynical war veteran with a grudge against society from prison to lead them out of their ghettoes, only to die within sight of safety on the mined roads leading to suburban safety.
"Failing that, we will rain enormous nuclear shells down upon the inner cities of Britain, sparing the poor from the pain of being dead," he promised.
"I get all my best ideas while watching films on the telly," said Mr Grayling brightly. "Just wait until I unveil my plans for the future of law enforcement."
Government to Outlaw Football Addiction
Football is to be categorised as a Class C drug and banned by the end of the year, according to the Home Office.
The popular but legal recreational sport has been linked to a number of deaths, and there is a growing body of evidence to say that it is completely addictive and causes long-term brain damage.
"Football gives its users a legal high," said home secretary Alan Johnson. "But they often mix it with alcohol, creating dangerous levels of GBH in their bloodstream. This leads to severe mood swings, high blood pressure, vomiting and thinking that a two-year-old covered from head to toe in merchandising is somehow acceptable."
Other currently-legal addictive substances - including cheap ITV and the increasingly-popular Conservative Party drug - are also likely to be outlawed before the year is out, said Mr Johnson.
The popular but legal recreational sport has been linked to a number of deaths, and there is a growing body of evidence to say that it is completely addictive and causes long-term brain damage.
"Football gives its users a legal high," said home secretary Alan Johnson. "But they often mix it with alcohol, creating dangerous levels of GBH in their bloodstream. This leads to severe mood swings, high blood pressure, vomiting and thinking that a two-year-old covered from head to toe in merchandising is somehow acceptable."
Other currently-legal addictive substances - including cheap ITV and the increasingly-popular Conservative Party drug - are also likely to be outlawed before the year is out, said Mr Johnson.
Sunday 23 August 2009
Military Projects Permanently Years Ahead Of Their Time
Armed Forces Caretaker Bill Rammell has poured cold water on claims that MoD inefficiency in the procurement of new equipment is putting soldiers' lives at risk in Afghanistan, as suggested by a report leaked to the media today.
The top-secret document, written by special advisor Bernard Gray, states that current acquisition projects are £35bn over budget and, on average, five years late.
Mr Rammell, however, defended the department's record by pointing out that military projects were often at the cutting edge of technology.
"There is a maxim in defence procurement which says that by the time the hardware is in production, it's already obsolete," he pointed out as he swept an empty corridor of power. "Obviously we don't want our front-line soldiers facing the enemy with obsolete equipment, so we're constantly investing in things which are still in development. As soon as they get to the pre-production stage, we simply cancel the project and fund the search for its successor - thereby ensuring that we remain one step ahead of the opposition."
Unit commanders in Afghanistan - whose patrols are routinely sent out to tackle the elusive Taliban on horses with Lewis guns balanced on their heads - are, however, reported to be less than pleased by Mr Rammell's explanation, and are still clamouring for better weapons and transport.
"Let me reassure the troops on the ground that we are now actively trialling the latest in military hardware, prior to deployment across the Afghan theatre of operations," said Mr Rammell. "This 'Magic Wand' will make short work of Taleban guerrillas, roadside devices, landmines and suicide bombers, simply by turning them into fluffy bunny-rabbits or fluttering white doves. It will also overcome the shortage of transport helicopters, by granting each individual soldier low-to-medium altitude flight capability. And in the unlikely event of soldiers being wounded or even killed, they can be restored to full health just by a wave of a colleague's wand."
When asked how the trials were proceeding, Mr Rammell said that the exact details were classified, although the MoD had already succeeded in making hundreds of horribly-maimed soldiers magically disappear from public view.
"The war in Afghanistan is winnable," he added. "Let me assure you, when the winner of yesterday's democratic presidential elections is announced, you can be sure that magic will have played a major part in the electoral process."
The top-secret document, written by special advisor Bernard Gray, states that current acquisition projects are £35bn over budget and, on average, five years late.
Mr Rammell, however, defended the department's record by pointing out that military projects were often at the cutting edge of technology.
"There is a maxim in defence procurement which says that by the time the hardware is in production, it's already obsolete," he pointed out as he swept an empty corridor of power. "Obviously we don't want our front-line soldiers facing the enemy with obsolete equipment, so we're constantly investing in things which are still in development. As soon as they get to the pre-production stage, we simply cancel the project and fund the search for its successor - thereby ensuring that we remain one step ahead of the opposition."
Unit commanders in Afghanistan - whose patrols are routinely sent out to tackle the elusive Taliban on horses with Lewis guns balanced on their heads - are, however, reported to be less than pleased by Mr Rammell's explanation, and are still clamouring for better weapons and transport.
"Let me reassure the troops on the ground that we are now actively trialling the latest in military hardware, prior to deployment across the Afghan theatre of operations," said Mr Rammell. "This 'Magic Wand' will make short work of Taleban guerrillas, roadside devices, landmines and suicide bombers, simply by turning them into fluffy bunny-rabbits or fluttering white doves. It will also overcome the shortage of transport helicopters, by granting each individual soldier low-to-medium altitude flight capability. And in the unlikely event of soldiers being wounded or even killed, they can be restored to full health just by a wave of a colleague's wand."
When asked how the trials were proceeding, Mr Rammell said that the exact details were classified, although the MoD had already succeeded in making hundreds of horribly-maimed soldiers magically disappear from public view.
"The war in Afghanistan is winnable," he added. "Let me assure you, when the winner of yesterday's democratic presidential elections is announced, you can be sure that magic will have played a major part in the electoral process."
England Ecstatic Over Winning Something Or Other
All of England's problems were solved forever this afternoon, when some sportsmen won something off the Australians.
Triumphant grunts of "Engerlund! Engerlund!" echoed across this happy land as football fans leapt from their sofas and joyfully punched the air, spilling cans of Castlemaine 4X all over the dog, which they then hugged and kissed in jubilation.
"Jer see it?" screamed one delighted Manchester United supporter as he fell out of a heaving bar in Islington. "Everyone on the pitch seemed to be wearin' ver white strip uv Engerlund. Them Aussie fuckers wunt nowhere to be seen, I tell yer. Engerlund!"
A marginally less ignorant Arsenal supporter raised his chin from a pool of regurgitated Fosters to shout "Engerlund" several dozen times before observing that "We mustuv scared the shit artuv that Aussie goalie. 'E wuz 'idin' behind sum sawta plank 'e must of faand, lookin' like faw two pins 'e mite juss run awf an' 'ide. I lorst cant uv the goalie substichooshuns they made, muss uv bin gitin' on faw fifteen I reckon. Engerlund 'ad puzzeshun uv the ball from start ta finish, they wuz juss chuckin it rand like they wuz 'avin' a larf! Classic footy."
"Engerlund!" he explained, several times, before falling unconscious again.
Meanwhile, Britain's cricket fans - most of whom, strangely, seem to be neither white nor alcoholics - were said to be waiting patiently for India, Pakistan and the West Indies to walk all over the victorious England team in a series of predictable test-match defeats.
Triumphant grunts of "Engerlund! Engerlund!" echoed across this happy land as football fans leapt from their sofas and joyfully punched the air, spilling cans of Castlemaine 4X all over the dog, which they then hugged and kissed in jubilation.
"Jer see it?" screamed one delighted Manchester United supporter as he fell out of a heaving bar in Islington. "Everyone on the pitch seemed to be wearin' ver white strip uv Engerlund. Them Aussie fuckers wunt nowhere to be seen, I tell yer. Engerlund!"
A marginally less ignorant Arsenal supporter raised his chin from a pool of regurgitated Fosters to shout "Engerlund" several dozen times before observing that "We mustuv scared the shit artuv that Aussie goalie. 'E wuz 'idin' behind sum sawta plank 'e must of faand, lookin' like faw two pins 'e mite juss run awf an' 'ide. I lorst cant uv the goalie substichooshuns they made, muss uv bin gitin' on faw fifteen I reckon. Engerlund 'ad puzzeshun uv the ball from start ta finish, they wuz juss chuckin it rand like they wuz 'avin' a larf! Classic footy."
"Engerlund!" he explained, several times, before falling unconscious again.
Meanwhile, Britain's cricket fans - most of whom, strangely, seem to be neither white nor alcoholics - were said to be waiting patiently for India, Pakistan and the West Indies to walk all over the victorious England team in a series of predictable test-match defeats.
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