Labour Giants Deliver Keynote Sobs To TV Addicts

Stores are running out of mops and sponges today, as the British electorate grimly prepares to be deluged by floods of crocodile tears from senior Labour figures in the forthcoming general election.

Prime minister Gordon Brown set the ball rolling, when he started blubbing his eyes out during a hard-hitting interview with Piers Morgan. When the ferocious political journalist asked him how he thought the death of his prematurely-born daughter in 2002 had informed his economic policy decisions as chancellor, the normally stony-faced PM inhaled deeply from a bag of onions before welling up and bawling his little heart out on his shocked inquisitor's sleeve.

After the cameras were repositioned for extra cut-in footage, the prime minister composed himself, asked the director if he needed another take and moved onto a question about whether he was a tit man or a leg man.

While Mr Brown's waterworks will not be broadcast until next Sunday, Labour spin doctor Alastair Campbell provided a sneak preview of what sympathetic audiences can expect when he burst into tears during The Andrew Marr Show this morning. When the horror-eared Marr mentioned Campbell's shite novel, the shoulders of Tony Blair's former propagandist-in-chief shook uncontrollably as he reached in his pocket for a rubber bulb which sent jets of water spraying from his eyes, drenching the floor manager and shorting out the studio lights.

Mr Campbell later claimed that, by giving the free plug for his novel as arranged, Marr was cynically planting the deliberately-misleading impression in the viewers' minds that the infamous WMD dossier he compiled in 2002 for his patron saint, Tony Blair, could in some way be mistaken for a steaming crock of horseshit.

A Labour Party spokesman later denied that the weepfest could be part of a wider election strategy aimed at picking up sympathy votes from the sort of mindless fuckwits who vote for the saddest case every week on Britain's Got Talent because they can only react to obvious outbursts of emotion, in much the same way that plants grow in the direction of sunlight.

"If we won by turning the election into a public spectacle of mawkish grief by sidestepping the serious issues facing Britain in favour of a maudlin appeal to cheap sentimentality," he said, "I'm sure Gordon Brown would feel honour-bound to tell the Queen he couldn't, in all conscience, form a government."