Labour Hopefuls Urge Mandelson To Stick To Lying

Three of the androids in the Labour leadership contest have rounded angrily on Peter Mandelson, after an unprecedented five days of the party’s liar-in-chief telling the truth.

“Lord Mandelson told lies for fifteen years, and performed a great service to the Labour Party in doing so by dragging it, kicking and screaming, into the era of modern politics,” said the Miliband clones, in unison with unconvincing pretend-lefty Andy Burnham. “But if he can’t tell spectacular whoppers any more, then the party has no further use for him. He should retire immediately from politics, preferably by opening a window and turning to dust in the sunlight.”

Among the revelations disclosed to a shocked public in the Times’ serialisation of his memoirs are the following astounding-but-true insights:

- Tony Blair didn’t like Gordon Brown very much;
- Neither did anybody else;
- Once Tony Blair got it into his head to do something, it was jolly difficult to change his mind.

Meanwhile, Tony Blair himself has been left fuming, as Lord Mandelson’s memoirs beat his own forthcoming book into print.

“Look,” he told reporters, “You want lies. Britain wants lies. I’m a straightforward lying kind of guy. Britain thrives on lies. The Labour Party thrives on lies. Above all, I thrive on lies. Peter Mandelson lied for me. He lied for his party. He lied for Britain. If Peter can’t lie any more, who can Britain turn to? Who can the Labour Party turn to? Buy my book when it comes out in September, and you can read all the lies you want.”

Hated BBC To Be Closed Down

The hated BBC could well see the licence fee cut within a year, said James Murdoch today, without moving his lips, as the first step towards eradicating the evil, thieving corporate monster which has blighted your lives by cynically giving your money to its staff.

Mr Murdoch’s hilarious dummy, Culture Secretary Jeremy Hunt, had reporters in stitches when he added: “Now take your hand out of my arse, daddy’s boy.”

Sky viewers, meanwhile, were reported to be ecstatic about the outstanding value for money they received from their monthly subscriptions, as long as they could continue to have football matches beamed directly into their eyeballs for every waking second of their lives.

Facebook Users Demand Ripper’s Release

Millions of British Facebook users are demanding that the social networking site act swiftly to secure the immediate release of their beloved anti-hero Peter Sutcliffe, the Yorkshire Ripper.

“obviously im to young to remmember the rippers trial of terrier cos it was like back in the 8ies which was like way b4 i was born,” explained fan-page creator Sammi-Jo Bloggs. “but my dad ses his escupaids kep ppl intertaned 4 like months rofl wich in my mind sort of makes him evan more heroic then ruoal mote, cos like he only managed a week init”

Sammi-Jo created the page on hearing that Sutcliffe’s application for a minimum term to be set had been turned down by a high court judge, which means the merciless mass-murderer, who terrorised women across the North of England with his sadistic attacks, will spend the rest of his life in prison with no chance of parole.

“omg its pleece state britten it aint like suckliff blowed he victums awa wiv a shuta is it,” read a typical comment from ‘Codeylee’ on the page’s message board. “e offed em humanley wiv nuffin more dangous than a hamma then e cut em up wiv a stanley an a scrudriva wich is like not cuvverd by the firarms ack atall right xx”

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” commented a Home Office spokesman.

Priests With Tits? That’s Like Fondling Small Boys, Explains Pope

Moving in a mystical way that has even left God scratching his head, Pope Benedict XVI has condemned the attempted ordination of women by a Catholic pressure group, calling it “a grave crime” which is as serious as child abuse - although the Vatican later stressed that although one is clearly as bad as the other, in fact it isn’t and anyone who can’t see the distinction is a wicked heretic.

The latest papal declaration of nonsense is a response to futile but determined attempts from Catholic Women’s Ordination to drag their medieval superstition kicking and screaming out of the 11th century.

“The Holy Führer has carefully examined all of his collected paintings of Christ and his disciples, and can confirm that each and every one of them has an unmistakeable cock-shaped bulge in their garments,” explained Cardinal Charles Scicluna, the Vatican’s sex crimes investigator. “And although His Holiness is no clearer on what a magnificent pair of charlies might look like than the rest of us, he’s pretty sure none of them have any. Well, that about clears that up, doesn’t it?”

“We’ll set aside for a minute the absence of any liturgical requirement for a penis to be waved around during services,” retorted Mrs Doyle of Catholic Women’s Ordination. “According the Pope’s own logic, the only people who should be ordained as Catholic priests are Jews living in the Middle East. Now correct me if I’m wrong, father, but haven’t I heard somewhere on the radio about the Jews in the Middle East being generally quite into the whole Jewishness thing in a fairly big way?”

“Nevertheless,” she conceded, “Despite this apparent mismatch between supply and demand, I’m prepared to accept that all the priests in the world fulfil the Pope’s strictly Biblical criteria, if you and the Holy Father will lift up your cassocks and show us all where you had the snip. Go on.”

“Go on, go on, go on, go on, go on,” she added.

As a purple-faced Cardinal Sicloony called for the implements of holy persuasion to be brought forth and displayed to the witch, billions of people around the world somehow managed to go about their daily business undisturbed by the vital theological debate.

Juju Rain God Not Showing Up On Satellite Images, Insists Met Office

Weather experts at the Met Office today began a desperate struggle to convince Britain’s woefully superstitious peasantry that the Earth’s complex weather patterns are not in fact governed by primitive folklore stories - publishing detailed satellite and radar images of the entire planet in a futile attempt to prove once and for all that there is no angry juju-being hovering above the clouds, jumping up and down on them to shake the rain out for forty days and nights because somebody moved the bones of an unremarkable medieval bishop a thousand years ago.

“The legend of St.Swithin is what we in the meteorological sciences term ‘an immense crock of reeking, steaming poo,” explained BBC weatherman Matt Taylor. “Weather systems are influenced by many factors – ocean currents, solar activity, geological features, man-made pollution and so on – but the news that many obstinate inhabitants of a supposedly educated nation continue to cling to the pathetic myth that the merest drop of rain on the otherwise-unobserved feast day of a long-dead member of some mumbo-jumbo hierarchy dictates the weather pattern for an unbroken forty-day period can only be a tragic indictment of the sheer unrelenting idiocy of the British people.”

“Besides, if it ever should rain continuously for forty days and forty nights, any fool knows that a great flood would cover the face of the earth, drowning every living creature not taking shelter in a vast and unfeasibly well-stocked boat of some sort,” he added. “Including fish.”

Did BP Help Viet Cong To Victory? Demand Senators

As US Secretary of State Hillary Clinton considers a demand from the senate to investigate whether evil, scheming BP bosses ordered the Scottish government to release convicted Lockerbie bomber Abdelbaset al-Megrahi last year, some senators are already looking for evidence that might link the malevolent oil company with the failure of the US forces to secure victory in the Vietnam conflict.

“All ah know is them VCs hadda oil their gook bicycles someways, or that there Ho Chi Minh trail woulda plumb seized up solid,” claimed senator Jesse Redkneck of Hick State. “And if our loyal, patriotic petrochemical boys wun’t supplyin’ Charlie with lube, well that kinda cleared th’ field for some unscrupulous rival concern ta fair corner th’ market, see?”

“An’ correct me if ah’m wrong,” he added, after spitting a wad of tobacco into a pitcher, “But consarn it if those yaller Limey bastards done turned their goddam backs on us aways back in ’65. Now is it jes’ me, or is thar some kinda connection thing goin’ on here?”

Other senators are urging the State Department to look into reports that evil BP tankers sailed with the Imperial Japanese Navy task force which launched the infamous attack on Pearl Harbour in 1941, in return for exclusive rights to the vast oilfields seized when Japan’s forces overran the Dutch East Indies.

Incredibly Selective Number Continues To Fall

The meaningless number that governments like to pretend has something to do with unemployment has fallen to 2.74m, according to the Office for Misleading Statistics.

“Excluding jobless people who are being forced to sit in a room with a sanctimonous arse who is paid to show them the best way to fold a CV into an envelope, people who are sent to a semi-derelict office block for a couple of hours a week to earn a certificate telling amused would-be employers that they can usually switch on a PC without injuring themselves, people have been cajoled into spending a couple of hours a week as an unpaid slave for some small businessman with an allergy to paying wages, people who live with someone who has some sort of job, people who have come to Britain illegally, people who are clinically depressed by living in Britain, people with an unusual number of limbs, people who are comatose or sectioned, people who have been slung in prison and people with tits who have pre-teen children, that just leaves a mere 2.74m people we can’t find any excuse for,” smiled an official liar.

Work and pensions secretary Iain Duncan Smith promised that the government was working hard on innovative new excuses, and said it was entirely possible that nobody at all would be officially classified as unemployed before the next election.

“For years, frontline Jobcentre staff have been trotting out the platitude that searching for work is a full-time job in itself,” he said. “Well, once we’ve found a way to get round all that communist minimum-wage nonsense I don’t see why we couldn’t make that official.”

Mandelson: Blair Feared Raving Psychopath Brown Would Kill And Eat Him

Today’s startling revelation from Lord Mandelson’s funeral elegy for the Labour Party is that, when Tony Blair was prime minister, he went to bed every night with a baseball bat - terrified that his chancellor Gordon Brown would tear down the wall between Nos. 10 and 11 Downing Street in a crack-crazed red rage, gut him with a carving knife and feast on his still-pulsing entrails.

The former business secretary claims that Mr Blair broke down in tears at the mere mention of the chancellor’s name, sobbing that he often heard the agonised death-throes of garden songbirds as the sadistic Mr Brown gleefully tortured them next door in his chamber of horrors.

According to Lord Mandelson, Mr Blair once considered the idea of shuffling Mr Brown sideways to the Foreign Office - but feared the brooding arch-fiend would seize the opportunity to engineer a nuclear Armageddon, in which he could cackle maniacally as the ocean floors cracked asunder and the atmosphere boiled away until nothing remained of our planet but a shattered asteroid belt.

“Even the tiny, brutish mind of John Prescott recognised the danger posed by Gordon Brown,” he writes in today’s serialised excerpt in the Times. “Whenever Gordon was in the vicinity John would immediately adopt a submissive posture, allowing the domineering alpha-male chancellor to mark him with urine before meekly picking nits out of Gordon’s hair.”

“It’s no wonder Tony is still surrounded by bodyguards,” explained Lord Mandelson. “The current whereabouts of Gordon Brown are a complete mystery, and it’s entirely possible that he has retreated to some sort of secret base inside a hollowed-out volcano - possibly in the Orkneys or the Western Isles - from which he is, even now, moving inexorably towards the terrible fulfilment of his insane plans.”

“Or he could just come at him from a dark alley with a sledgehammer,” he added.

BAe Chooses Perfect Moment To Unveil Ruinously Expensive Toy

Just as defence secretary Dr Liam Fox confirmed that Britain’s pensioners would be far better looked-after by throwing huge wads of money at the MoD than by retaining any meaningful form of public healthcare, leading arms manufacturer British Aerospace triumphantly removed the wraps from the Toypenis, its latest £142m radio-controlled plane.

“Blah… blah… government resolve… blah… shape a changing world… blah blah… stay the course… blah… hard power - oh god, I’ve come in my pants,” gasped the defence minister, as he saw the obscenely pointless drone aircraft for the first time.

"The Toypenis boasts a full array of stealth technology, powerful engines, surveillance sensors, bombs, missiles and other sexual organs specifically designed to induce multiple orgasms in military personnel," announced a smiling BAe death merchant, as Britain’s top brass enthusiastically polluted themselves.

“Of course, we won’t know if it actually flies until next year, when we try switching it on,” he added. “But that’s a minor issue. What’s important is that, in military terminology, this thing has the most mouth-wateringly perky breasts you’ve ever seen on an airframe.”

Mandelson: Cabinet Members Suspected Brown Might Not Be Universally Loved By Voters

The Times’ sensational serialisation of Lord Mandelson’s explosive memoirs continues to send seismic shocks throughout the political world, with today’s astounding revelation that, in the run-up to May’s election, key members of the cabinet were beginning to wonder if PM Gordon Brown might not be the sole recipient of the complete and unconditional love of the electorate after all.

According to the party’s Machiavellian manipulator, in the last weeks of Labour’s 13-year reign Chancellor Alistair Darling was privately admitting to anyone he bumped into that “that miserable shithead Brown’s fucked into a cocked hat, the hatchet-faced bastard – I wish to high heaven he’d just do the decent thing and step out in front of a bus”, while Douglas Alexander conceded that Labour’s position in the polls might best be imagined as “right up to our shitty necks in shit creek, squatting on a giant stinking floater, without a shitting paddle.”

Even Mr Brown himself was forced to consider the possibility that the people of Britain might possibly prefer be comprehensively rogered into abject servitude by a grinning, soulless vampire like David Cameron than have to endure another five more years of his hideous scowling face, claimed Lord Mandelson.

“These completely unsuspected revelations are pure political dynamite!” enthused News Corporation chief James Murdoch, signing a very large cheque. “Whoda thunk it, eh?”

The former PM himself has maintained a dignified silence, as his head remains firmly stuffed up a cow's backside.

Government Doing Something Or Other To NHS

Health Secretary Andrew Lansley today announced plans to do something so absurdly complicated to the National Health Service that nobody will be able to figure out what the hell it all means until it’s too late.

Hospitals will be taken out of the NHS – that much seems clear enough – but medical and business experts alike are scratching their heads over what in the name of Christ is meant by “a vibrant industry of social enterprises”.

“Does that mean they’ll have me performing abortions on customers right here in the shop with a knitting needle, like back in the old days?” asked Elsie Bunce, 92, an Oxfam shop worker in Halifax. “I don’t think I’d like that very much.”

Strategic health authorities and primary care trusts will be abolished under Mr Lansley’s scheme. Responsibility for public health will pass to the same cash-strapped local authorities who don’t see the need to empty your bins; while GPs will be able to meet up for a pleasant round of golf, during the course of which they will cordially agree on which costly life-saving hospital services they think could be quietly shut down without too many people noticing.

A really and truly independent NHS board will be set up, promised Mr Lansley, in order to make it look like somebody somewhere is keeping some sort of eye on the wholesale randomisation of healthcare provision.

Meanwhile, patients will be given an important role in the future of the NHS, being granted complete freedom to choose which GP they would prefer to tell them he’s afraid he won’t be able to fund their operation, because he used up his allocation budget two months ago.

Reaction to the health secretary’s vague wish-list has been mixed. Frontline staff union Unison fainted dead away, while the BMA said its members were rubbing their hands in glee at the prospect of getting their hands on all that dosh.

A Patients’ Association spokesman commented, “What the fuck does all this grade-A horseshit mean in plain English? All we know for sure is that it’s squirting out of some Tory arse at a rate of knots, so presumably it’s got to be seriously bad news.”

Meanwhile, semi-retired Truro GP Dr Robin Pimms, 64, spoke for many in his profession, telling reporters at St Mellion’s fourteenth hole that he was “rather looking forward” to fiddling about with the budget of the Royal Cornwall Hospital for a couple of afternoons a week over an agreeable glass of sherry.

‘Is It 467?’ Asks Hopeful Gove

Education secretary Michael Gove has optimistically scrawled a fifth version of school building plans which he thinks ought to be shelved, with nothing but a crude drawing of a willy in the space where he should have shown his calculations.

Apart from an over-elaborately handwritten heading - featuring the date and Mr Gove’s name, with a stick man made from the O in his surname - the single sheet simply says ‘467’. The figure is underlined several times, and highlighted in yellow marker. On close scrutiny, there are signs that the ‘6’ may in fact be a badly-written ‘5’.

Mr Gove came under fire from MPs of all sides this morning, facing difficult questions about how he had arrived at his earlier decision to scrap over 700 school rebuilding projects. He responded by bursting into tears, running to Prime Minister David Cameron and claiming that opposition education spokesman Ed Balls had hit him.

Mr Cameron himself later said that he is “terrified” at the prospect of sending his absurdly privileged children to some sort of state-run Inner London shithole where little peasants are constantly tripping over rain-filled buckets.

Voters told him not to worry about it too much, as they fully expected him to find the usual transparent excuse for sending them somewhere commoner-free, like the exclusive privately-run Westminster School, when the time comes.

Newspapers Attack Blanket TV Coverage of Manhunt

It was wrong of the broadcasting industry to cynically give so much free publicity to a pathetic attention-seeker like Raoul Moat, according to in-depth reports filling most of Sunday’s papers.

James Murdoch, chief executive of News Corporation, told his reporters that the blatant milking of what was, in reality, a minor offence committed in an unimportant corner of the British Isles proved beyond a shadow of doubt that the desperately sensationalist BBC should be closed down immediately and handed over to him.

“Compare the BBC’s hysterical coverage with the calm, measured professionalism of Sky’s Kay Burley,” he dictated to his attentive hacks. “As for our papers, Raoul Moat hardly featured at all. I believe there may have been a small paragraph on page 27 of Saturday’s Times saying something along the lines of ‘Police ready to arrest minor criminal’, but nothing more.”

Elsewhere in today’s papers, the Sunday Express firmly maintains that the shootings and subsequent manhunt would never have happened at all, if only Raoul Moat had been put on a register the moment he left prison. The Mail on Sunday went one step further, calling for the immediate execution of all prison inmates before another inevitable tragedy unfolded.

Meanwhile, having laid off the last of its reporters, the Independent on Sunday filled its covers by wondering what the week-long manhunt said about us.

A general consensus is emerging within the media industry to the effect that the public’s prurient interest in news and current affairs is a sordid act of voyeurism which should be countered by more opinion pieces and celebrity photo-features.

Get Your Sorry Black Ass Over Here, FIFA Tells Mandela

A grieving Nelson Mandela has been told by Sepp Blatter to stop his pathetic sobbing over the death of his great granddaughter - who died in a car crash on the way home from a pre-tournament concert - and drag his sorry black ass over to tonight’s World Cup final match between Spain and the Netherlands, or else.

“Now look here, kaffer, you’ve already used that feeble excuse to bunk off the opening ceremony,” said the FIFA president. “In case you hadn’t noticed, we own your toytown country for the duration of the championship – and that includes you, fuzzy. If this stiff is so goddamned important to you, you can bloody well drag it along with you tonight, do you hear me?”

“I’ll just tell you this once, you good-for-nothing layabout,” he raged. “If you’re not on that pitch, dancing your little rainbow socks off with tonight’s winners, we’ll be demanding full payment of the $600m your piss-ant little tribe’s had from the sweat of our labours, in addition to the tax-free $1bn we’ve made ourselves. Do I make myself clear?”

“And bloody get there on time, too, boy,” added the white football master. “I’m not going to be fobbed off with some old crap about the dog eating you, or white boys shoving you around on the way to the stadium. If that happens, I shall have to beat you, you understand? I want to see you wearing one of those multicoloured ethnic shirts, by the way, not dressed up in black. I hate black.”

The beautiful game kicks off at 7.30pm.