Darling: Why We Had To Leave The Country In The Hands Of A Raving Lunatic For Three Years

The horse's head was just a friendly hint, said Brown

On the Andrew Marr Plays Guitar Show today, former Chancellor Alistair Darling sensationally revealed the reason why he and David Miliband chose not to topple delusional megalomaniac Gordon Brown when they had the chance.

“At the end point you had say you had to get borrowing down,” explained the traumatised ex-chancellor. “Which is another way of saying: ‘take a sodding great axe to public services, the welfare state, the NHS and all those other things people think are essential’.”

“David Miliband and I met and discussed whether there was any way of getting rid of Gordon, i.e. telling the world about his hour-long ranting fits and his utter pig-headed refusal to recognise an economic disaster even as it came crashing down around his ears,” he revealed. “But then David said to me, ‘Hang on a minute, Snowy - if we punt Gordon into the long grass, then one of us is going to have to fuck the country sideways. Why don’t we just let the Tories do it for us and take all the flak instead? Then we can just shrug and say it was all Gordon’s fault, and coast back into power when the plebs give them the boot in four years’ time?’ So there you have it. It was all Gordon’s fault and nobody else’s, and if he even thought I was looking like I might spill the beans, the psychotic maniac would undoubtedly have kicked my teeth in and handed them back to me as cufflinks. Or told his devoted henchman, Balls, to do it.”

“Vote Labour in 2013, folks,” he added hopefully.

Murdoch Now Even Less Popular Than Arse Who Led Us All Into Lifetime Of Penury

Admit it - you loathe him slightly less now, don't you?

Even the gormless, arse-headed Gordon Brown - whose perversely pig-headed refusal, as both chancellor and prime minister, to regulate the City of London led to global ruin - is now held in higher esteem by the penniless public than Rupert Murdoch, it emerged yesterday, after the charm-free backbencher broke his self-imposed vow of silence in the House of Commons to accuse the tarnished mogul’s media empire of a “lethal combination of illegality, collusion and cover-up”.

All over the country, people were leaping from their sofas, punching the air and cheering wildly as the hatchet-faced incompetent droned on for half an hour.

“Even allowing for the fact that 29 minutes and 57 seconds of Gordon Brown’s speech were nothing more than a shameless, self-pitying attempt to offload the blame for his appalling mismanagement of the nation’s finances onto what he apparently, in all seriousness, believes to be misrepresentation in the Murdoch papers,” said a typical dewy-eyed viewer, just one of millions glued to BBC Parliament, “The words that will remain forever seared into my memory long after senility robs me of the ability to remember my own children are his stirring summary of News Corp’s methods as ‘lawbreaking on an industrial scale’.”

Meanwhile, MPs on parliament’s Culture, Media and Sport Committee have asked Mr Murdoch, his equally loathsome son James and their mysteriously limpet-like sidekick Rebekah Brooks if they wouldn’t mind dropping by one afternoon, if they haven’t got anything else planned, and entertaining them all with an improvised comedy routine.

Bomb Explodes Harmlessly, Causing Only Minor Damage To Balls

A bombshell that was meant to assassinate Tony Hitblair six years ago exploded harmlessly in the Daily Telegraph this morning, causing only superficial harm to one-eyed chief conspirator Gordon von Stauffenbrown’s Balls.

According to the Telegraph’s forensic experts, the bomb plot appears to have been hatched in the dark days of 2005 when an increasingly deranged Hitblair cynically reneged on his promise to step down, which he famously scribbled on a restaurant menu long cherished by Stauffenbrown. As Hitblair, buoyed by the continuing support of the British hordes in their mighty Volvo tanks, continued to ignore the promise - no matter how hopefully Stauffenbrown brandished it before the world’s press - a desperate plot was hatched to blow Hitblair out of office.

Labour has only got one Balls

Unfortunately for the plotters, the bomb turned out to be a complete dud and Hitblair survived unharmed until he chose to end his own reign just before the chaotic last days of the Labour government, defiantly bringing ruin to the nation by appointing the hapless Stauffenbrown as his successor.

The bomb was soon forgotten – until yesterday, when it unexpectedly went off with a disappointing pop in an old newspaper. An embarrassed Stauffenbrown emerged from the smoke with his trousers in tatters and his blackened Balls dangling in full view of everyone.

“My reputation is undamaged,” he assured reporters, “Because I haven’t got one.”

What Would I Know About The Global Economy? Wails Longest-Serving Chancellor Of The Exchequer

Mr Brown spent ten years at the Treasury like this

Former prime minister Gordon Brown today issued an uncharacteristic apology for his pathetic inability to regulate the wild excesses of a banking industry which contributed so much to the worst worldwide recession in generations, but excused himself by pointing out that - as Britain’s longest-serving head of a Treasury chock-full of leading experts on banking and economics – nobody could reasonably have expected him to grasp the first inkling of how banks do business.

“I’m just an average wee chappie with a PhD in History, so obviously I haven’t got a clue about all that mumbo-jumbo about shares and bonds and whatnot,” Mr Brown told the Institute for New Economic Thinking's annual conference in New Hampshire, to the chagrin of conference organisers who paid him a large fee under the impression that he did. “All I know about banks is what I see in the adverts. To be honest, I didn’t even know that Abbey National was bought by Santander. That must be why they disappeared from the high street - I’d been wondering about that.”

“And I thought Lloyds ran the trains in the Channel Tunnel,” he added, to gales of laughter.

“You know, you’d think - with half the Treasury consisting of civil servants who’d been on lengthy secondments to the City and the other half being bankers on secondment to the Treasury - somebody there might have had some notion of just how much the banks were all mortgaged to each other. But no, apparently not,” insisted the man who was responsible for the economy for ten years.

“When I was setting up the Financial Services Authority, I did send a memo round asking if anyone could explain the basics to me,” he went on, as delegates rolled helplessly in the aisles. “But when I chased it up people just coughed, looked at their shoes and told me it was all completely straightforward and the worst that could conceivably happen might be one of the smaller banks being swallowed up if a huge sinkhole were to suddenly open up in Central London.”

“Tell me, was I so wrong that to be trusting?” pleaded Mr Brown, to rapturous applause.

“That Ricky Gervais charatcer, he kills me,” said one guffawing economist, wiping a tear from his eye. “At first you think he’s actually being serious. Gotta hand it to you British, you guys are shit hot at parody.”

Crate In Kampala Warehouse Asks To Speak To British Consul

A packing crate surprised workers in a Kampala warehouse yesterday by claiming it was Britain’s former prime minister Gordon Brown and requesting consular assistance.

“This crate arrived from the UK several weeks ago, with fifty years’ storage fees paid in advance by the Labour Party,” said local DHL manager Musake Gwandoya. “It just sat there quietly until yesterday, when it told a passing porter it was called Gordon and asked if he would be so kind as to pass a note to the British embassy.”

It is believed that Mr Brown subsists on a spartan diet of such rats and snakes as fall through the ventilation holes of his 2m x 2m x 3m box.

An embassy spokesman confirmed that the crate contained Gordon Brown, adding that the ex-PM had asked for a consul to drop by to empty his chemical toilet, as it was getting a bit full.

“Mr Brown assures the people of Britain that he seeks no honours or titles, but asks if they wouldn’t mind lending him a small Travel Scrabble set,” he added. “He’s been quite happy so far playing clock patience, but he says a change is as good as a rest.”

Reporters have been politely but firmly refused access to the crate, although Mr Brown has issued a statement suggesting that if he ever got bored he may climb out to play a major part in transforming the fortunes of Africa.

The continent’s leaders politely thanked Mr Brown for his concern, and said they will be sure to post him a book or two every week.

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.

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.

UK Now A Dictatorship, Says Global Media Organisation Answerable to One Man

In less than a week the United Kingdom has lurched from democracy to dictatorship, according to secretive media overlord Rupert Murdoch’s propaganda tool, the Sun.

Those 10 Tell-Tale Signs Of A Dictator

1. Unelected
2. Secretive
3. Repressive
4. Control Freak
5. Tells People What To Think
6. Hates Ordinary Citizens
7. Will Do Deals With Anybody To Consolidate Power
8. Supports Unwinnable Wars
9. Marries Younger Woman
10. Steps Down For The Public Good

Later editions of the Sun carry nine tell-tale signs of a dictator, whilst leaked reports from paper’s headquarters say the corridors are filled with speculation about who will put themselves forward for the soon-to-be-vacated post of junior features writer.

Der Untergang

SCENE 2010 INT. DOWNUNGSTRASSE BUNKER. PRIME MINISTER’S OFFICE.  

A finger ( STRAW’S) hovers over a map on a desk.

STRAW

The enemy has made a breakthrough along a wide front. In the South they took Ealing Central and Acton and are advancing towards Battersea.

CUT TO C/S. STRAW.

They are at the northern city border between Crewe and Nantwich and Chester. In the east, they reached Dartford, Great Yarmouth and Ipswich.

CUT TO

BROWN

(waves vaguely)

Jacqui Smith’s assault will bring it under control.

CUT TO M/S. Ministers exchange uneasy glances.

CUT TO

STRAW

My prime minister… Jacqui Smith…

CUT TO

DARLING

Jacqui Smith could not mobilise enough votes. She wasn’t able to hold on to her majority.

CUT TO M/S. Ministers. Uncomfortable pause.

CUT TO C/S. BROWN twitches uncontrollably as he slowly removes his glasses.

BROWN

The following people will stay here: Darling, Straw, Harman and Bradshaw.

CUT TO M/S. Ministers.

(Uncomfortable pause as a dozen ministers shuffle out.)

CUT TO

BROWN

That was an order. SMITH HOLDING ONTO HER SEAT WAS AN ORDER!!! Who do you think you are to disobey an order that I give?

Scene 2010A INT CORRIDOR o/s PM’S OFFICE. M/S. Uncomfortable crowd of spin doctors, policy wonks and wavering ministers.)

BROWN

(off-camera, muffled)

Is this what it has come to?

PAN across faces as CAMPBELL starts to cry.

BROWN

(off-camera, muffled)

The focus group has been lying to me!!

CUT TO

SCENE 2010B INT. PM’S OFFICE.

Everybody has been lying to me. Even the Fabian Society!

(staggers to his feet)

Our cabinet is just a bunch of contemptible, disloyal cowards!

(gestures angrily)

STRAW

My prime minister, I cannot allow you to insult the junior ministers!

BROWN

THEY ARE COWARDS, TRAITORS AND FAILURES!!

CUT TO

STRAW

My prime minister, this is outrageous!

CUT TO

BROWN

The cabinet are the the scum of the British people!

(throws pencil at map)

Not a shred of honour! They call themselves ministers. Years at the media skills academy, just to learn how to hold a knife and fork!

CUT TO M/S. Ministers.

CUT TO

SCENE 2010C INT CORRIDOR o/s PM’S OFFICE. SLOW PAN across worried faces.

BROWN

(off-camera, muffled)

For years the cabinet has hindered my plans!! They’ve put every kind of obstacle…

CUT TO

SCENE 2010D INT PM’S OFFICE.  

(thumps desk repeatedly)

… in my way!

(shakes fist at ceiling)

What I should have done is liquidate all the high-ranking ministers, as Blair did!

(waves angrily at ministers, sits down)

I never attended the media skills academy. Yet I have conquered Britain all by myself.

CUT TO M/S. STRAW.

(Uncomfortable pause.)

CUT TO M/S. DARLING.

Traitors!

CUT TO M/S. BROWN.

I have been betrayed and deceived from the very beginning!

CUT TO M/S. Ministers.

What a monstrous betrayal of the British people! But all those traitors will PAY!

M/S BROWN.

They will pay with their own blood! THEY SHALL DROWN IN THEIR OWN BLOOD!!

CUT TO

SCENE 2010E INT CORRIDOR o/s PM’S OFFICE. C/S CAMPBELL, crying, and BALLS.

BALLS

Aly, please calm yourself.

CUT TO

SCENE 2010D INT PM’S OFFICE. M/S Ministers. Uncomfortable pause.

BROWN

My orders have fallen on deaf ears.

C/S. BROWN, shaking head resignedly.

Under these circumstances, I am no longer able to lead… it is over.

CUT TO M/S. STRAW, uncomfortably looking around at ministers.

CUT TO M/S. DARLING, ditto.

CUT TO M/S. HARMAN and BRADSHAW, ditto.

The government… is lost.

CUT TO M/S. STRAW, nervously adjusting tie.

CUT TO M/S. ashen-faced BROWN.

But gentlemen, if you believe I am going to leave Downungstrasse you are seriously mistaken. I’d rather do what I like. Blow your brains out.

Shock As Voters Discover Gordon Brown May Not Be The Kind, Caring Saint We All Thought He Was

Britain exploded in fury yesterday, after discovering to its horror that prime minister Gordon Brown may have a grumpy side to his normally sunny disposition.

A dear, sweet little old lady on her way to buy 200 tins of cat food was seized by a Labour party worker called Sue and dragged in front of the leering PM and 200 TV cameras, where she was told to read out a card saying: "Mr Brown, you are the best Labour leader since that nice Mr Attlee."

When, to Mr Brown's horror, the little old lady suddenly turned into an evil, cackling witch, he leapt into his car and hid - forgetting to switch off a microphone given to him by Rupert Murdoch, which picked up the following conversation:

BROWN: That was a disaster. Now I look like a man who's afraid of witches. Who arranged that?
MR BROWN'S KEEPER: I er um -
BROWN: I bet it was that bloody bitch Sue. She's always had it in for me. I bet she's a Sun reporter under deep cover. She needs to have an accident. Arrange it. I hate old people. They smell of wee, and they're always moaning. Never let old people near me again. If I ever see another old person I'm going to kill them, do you hear me? I hate them. Cackling at me like that. They're all the same. That's my message for today. I'm going to kill your nan.

A chastened Mr Brown later appeared on the Jeremy Whine Show on Radio 2, telling the nation that he had been under a lot of strain lately and had only been trying to express his profound admiration for a woman who flew a Spirtfire in the Battle of Britain, but his words somehow came out all wrong.

Later in the afternoon, Mr Brown was left trussed up on the doorstep of the little old lady's sinister gingerbread cottage in the dark woods, tied to a note saying: "Please wait for Sky News to arrive before punching this sack of shit in the mouth. Signed, Lord Mandelson."

Meanwhile, David Cameron and Nick Clegg both told reporters that witches were at the very heart of their parties' policies, and that they think your old nan is a lovely lady.

Supermarkets Thank Brown For Boosting Egg Sales

Britain's supermarkets have thanked Gordon Brown for a sudden rush for eggs, after the prime minister's self-pitying whinge on a train to Bournemouth today in which he basically challenged the public to throw things at him.

"I think what you guys are looking for," a surly Mr Brown told journalists, "Is someone to throw an egg at me or something and then say that there is some public anger. This is not like 2005, just let me tell you. This is not like 2005, when there was so much anger about Iraq."

The population - now angry about national bankruptcy, job losses, thieving politicians, greedy bankers, soaring fuel bills, volcanoes, Europe, gay men in B&Bs, yokels with Chinese accents, immigration, chavs, those horrible bastards next door, everybody else's driving skills, the ongoing existence of Andrew Lloyd Webber, the instability of Facebook and the general shoddiness of everything which surrounds them - responded swiftly by emptying the shelves of eggs. When the eggs ran out, the electorate turned to tomatoes and overripe melons before moving onto harder throwable goods such as tinned pilchards, frozen sides of beef and toasters.

"I'm almost tempted to vote Labour," beamed the manager of Aldi in Bournemouth's Wallisdown Road, as he surveyed his stripped-out store. "Don't worry, folks, I've got a special warehouse delivery arriving later."

All over Britain, the scene was repeated as voters fervently hoped for a prime ministerial visit.

"I wish we could have a general election every month!" an ecstatic Tesco chairman and chief executive Sir Terry Leahy told reporters, adding with a smile: "I'll tell whoever wins to see to it."

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."

Any Any Any Old Iron

Gordon Brown has gatecrashed a jam-selling fundraising event organised by suburban housewife Carol Ann Duffy to announce that he has bought up the nation's entire scrapyard supply of corrugated iron. He also promised to ship it out to the earthquake-hit island on the next returning banana boat.

"What these desperate, starving people need is something to occupy their minds," declared Mr Brown. "No point dwelling on your misfortunes, as Lord Mandelson keeps telling me, you'll just end up getting yourself down."

All that scrap iron only cost £35,000, and I've got a whopping £19.965m that I haven't spent yet burning a hole in my pocket for a Caribbean version of Scrapheap Challenge," smiled Mr Brown, as angry housewives tried to eject him from the jam sale. "I've got cabinet ministers scouring the scrap dealers of Britain for a van with no roof, a compact engine with lots of bottom-end torque and a dumper truck with a leaky universal joint. That's what the people of Haiti are crying out for. Set them the task of building hurricane-proof shelters out of tin - or better, something completely barmy like a vertical take-off submarine - and watch their little faces light up with glee."

Meanwhile, British Nuclear Fuels Limited pointed out that they have plenty of nice, hot reprocessed nuclear waste available to ship out to the ruined capital, Port-au-Prince.

"I reckon we could clear out Sellafield for, oh, say about £19.965m," said a BNFL spokesman today. "That's just covering our costs, you understand."

Brown Stokes Middle Class Fears About Tories' Stalinist Agenda

In his first major speech of the new year, proudly middle-class prime minister Gordon Brown warned Middle England that the sinister Conservatives were planning to implement a socialist agenda, the like of which has not been seen since the fall of communism a generation ago.

Addressing the Fabian Society, which was instrumental in founding the Labour movement a million years ago, Mr Brown spelled out the depth of hard-line socialism which now permeates Conservative thinking: "They have said that if you are middle class, you should not expect that children's centres will be available to you. That if you are middle class, child tax credits should not be available to you. That if you are middle class, there will be no child trust fund available to you. And so the Tories have planned a raid on the quality of life of our middle class. They want to take away middle class guarantees. And they have no account of future middle class jobs.

"It is only Labour - the party of those who help themselves - that offers a manifesto for the middle," he concluded, to rousing cheers from his speechwriter, Lady Thatcher. "Only Labour that owns the progressive centre ground."

When asked by the unquiet soul of Fabian Society founder George Bernard Shaw what he proposed to do to ease the plight of the working classes and the unemployed, Mr Brown explained his party's core beliefs in a simple but profound message: "Fuck 'em."

Brown Strangely Unwilling To Slavishly Follow America For Once

Prime minister Gordon Brown has bravely shown that he is nobody's poodle, by steadfastly refusing to meekly fall in line with US government policy on punitive taxation of the banking sector and aid to earthquake-hit Haiti.

Mr Brown issued a deliberate snub to Washington today, by pointedly refusing to mirror President Obama's promise to Wall Street that it would be hit with punitive taxation until US citizens received back every last cent of the $430bn ploughed into the Troubled Asset Relief Program.

Instead, the PM reiterated his warning that, if threatened with even a penny in the pound in additional taxation, the money-men would up sticks, shake the dust of the City of London from their feet and take their invaluable expertise with them to some rival financial centre such as Wall Street.

Meanwhile, as the US president swiftly pledged $100m in immediate aid to the flattened Caribbean nation of Haiti - along with the instant deployment of 5,000 troops plus ships, helicopters, planes and a floating hospital to help with rescue efforts - Mr Brown fearlessly demonstrated his new-found independence from Washington by pulling a paltry £6m in loose change out of his back pocket, chucking it in a charity collecting tin and asking the British people to spare a few coppers too.

Prime Minister Who: 'I Don't Want To Go'

In an interview with Prime Minister Who Magazine, Gordon Brown has given his backing to David Tennant as the Doctor.

"I would rather have a Doctor who looks good in a suit than a Doctor who looks like his mum's dressed him up for his first Young Farmers' Ball in Taunton," he said as he sat in his untidy bedroom, adding: "I think Matt Smith is a terrifying prospect."

Told that Prime Minister Who was not a fan of his, Matt Smith laughed: "Well, that's a pity, but there we are."

Mr Brown - famous for bringing his trademark brooding dourness to the title rôle of Prime Minister Who since 2007 - is due to be replaced in a few months by fresh-faced young English child actor David Cameron, who is said to be looking forward to capering off around the universe with madcap abandon.

Great God! This Is An Awful Place

As the last vestiges of infrastructure finally collapsed today in the snowy desolation formerly known as Great Britain, the first polar bears arrived to chase down and eat the few huddled survivors of the nightmarish end of civilisation.

Ice rafts, floating up Britain's estuaries on the incoming tides and bearing the relentless Arctic predators, were sighted by scattered bands of foraging Subaru drivers as they hunted desperately amid the drifting snows, chasing rumours of a mythical supermarket with remaining stocks of sliced bread.

"Once they get a whiff of human being, you're as good as dead," moaned a haggard, frostbitten woman who used to be a teacher until the nation's schools were crushed by the encroaching glaciers. "I've tried masking my deliciously meaty scent by emptying a bottle of Davidoff Cool Water for Women over myself, but that fuzzy bastard seems to be gaining on me all the same."

In the barren wastelands of London, tusk-wielding Labour backbenchers holed up in the Palace of Westminster - now visible only by the clockface of Big Ben poking forlornly out of a mountain of snow - mounted a desperate challenge to the authority of hapless tribal chieftain Gordon the Brown, in a last-ditch attempt to propitiate the Wendigo, the mysterious wind-walking god whose anger has all but extirpated their tribe from the face of their once green and pleasant land, with a blood sacrifice.

Meanwhile, Islam4UK reasserted its intention to hold a trek across the mile-thick ice-sheet covering Wootton Bassett to raise awareness of the terrible plight of Muslims in warm countries, despite the threat of being killed and eaten by a rival EDL hunting party.

Brown Pondering Berlusconi's Post-Assault Rise In Popularity

With Silvio Berlusconi's personal popularity soaring after he was smacked in the mouth with a cathedral, Britain's loathsome prime minister is said to be studying a range of possible bizarre assault scenarios in the months remaining before he is finally forced to call a general election.

Many worried Labour MPs, convinced that their marginal seats will be transformed for decades into unassailable Tory strongholds, have filled Gordon Brown's inbox with helpful suggestions for a poll-boosting rearrangement of the PM's gloomy features, including:

- being strapped securely to a post underneath the London Eye, each of whose cabins has been fitted with giant spring-loaded Dr Martens;

- a weekly televised battering live on Newsnight, in which Jeremy Paxman's forthright questioning style is augmented by Emu with a housebrick clenched in his beak;

- Prime Minister's Decking Time, in which Mr Brown is forced into stocks on the floor of the Commons debating chamber with backbenchers queueing up to pelt him with obscene garden gnomes;

- a Christmas Top of the Pops special, with the hapless PM in the centre of a moshpit seething with over-enthusiastic Rage Against The Machine fans whose elbows have been specially sharpened for the occasion, culminating in a well-aimed stage-dive by a rhinoceros with an anvil strapped to its back;

- an unescorted walk through any city centre in Britain.

Veteran political observers, however, insist that nothing short of a Hellraiser-style sundering by thousands of sharp hooks embedded deep within Mr Brown's pallid, podgy flesh would be capable of delivering the massive swing required for the legion of the damned who now make up 99% of the British electorate to reward Labour with a fourth term in office.

138 Million More Pigs Using Heathrow Every Year Won't Affect Environment, Say Climate Change Experts

Europe's prime ministers and presidents are said to be planning to surround Gordon Brown with 'wanker' hand gestures when they all get together next week for the usual media photo opportunity at the Copenhagen climate summit, on hearing that Britain would be going ahead with plans to add a third runway to Heathrow Airport just as Mr Brown was telling the rest of Europe to cut down on its carbon emissions.

The British government's Committee On Climate Change today announced that adding an extra 50% capacity to Europe's busiest airport would not harm the country's carbon targets at all. The independent committee was set up to advise the government on climate policy, and includes internationally-recognised authorities of the calibre of Lord Airbus, Mr Ryan Air and American environmental campaigner Bo E. Ing.

"The ignorant layman might think that several hundred more flights a day, each spewing out burnt hydrocarbons by the tonne, might have some detrimental effect on Britain's pollution levels," said Lord Airbus. "But it will be entirely feasible to compensate for this small increase in the nation's carbon footprint, for example by merely turning off all domestic electricity and gas supplies."

"And banning cars," he added.

"The committee recognises that the necessary adjustments might meet with resistance from some quarters," he explained, "But it's not our fault if selfish individuals want heat and light as well as citybreak weekends and two weeks in Florida. We were asked to come up with an excuse for allowing Heathrow to swallow up even more of the south east, and that's exactly what we've done."

Meanwhile, European leaders are somewhat miffed with the British PM for lecturing them on the need to cut their greenhouse emissions, whilst blithely increasing his own.

"Eet ees not unlike a man wiz diarrhoea getting on ze bus, dropping 'is trousers and pebbledashing 'is fellow passengers wiz ze terrible stinky shit, zen telling zem zey could really use a bath," said French PM Nicolas Sarkozy angrily.

German chancellor Angela Merkel agreed, promising: "Ven ze hypocritical bastard Brown stands up to spout his usual hot air, ze room vill be filled mit ze sound of all ze other delegates coughing 'Wanker!' into ze microphones."

Meanwhile, President Obama is reported to be tickled pink that, for once, the circled-finger-and-thumb of blame will not be waved at the United States. White House sources indicate that he has been busy practicing the gesture himself, with the aid of a portrait of his predecessor in the Oval office.

Don't Let Educated People Ruin Everything, Warns PM

A baying proletarian mob has surrounded top public school Eton, armed with firebrands, after prime minister Gordon Brown yesterday urged the nation to join him in a class war on public schools.

"The Right Honourable Leader of the Opposition is an overprivileged bag of horseshit," shouted the PM yesterday. "He went to Eton, which by definition makes him an enemy of the people. I urge the British public to twat him on sight."

"Public schools are nothing more or less than toff factories, churning out an endless stream of hardline Conservative upper-class twits who scoff quail's eggs and quaff champagne in their clubs as they brag to each other about how much they hate the working classes," he continued. "Need I give examples? Oh, all right then: Tam Dalyell, Ed Balls, Tony and Hilary Benn, Tony Blair, Stephen Byers, Charles Clarke, Ann Clywd, Alistair Darling, Michael Foot, Harriet Harman, Margaret Hodge, Geoff Hoon, Tessa Jowell, Ruth Kelly, Bob Marshall-Andrews, George Orwell, James Purnell and Keith Vaz."

"Whatever you do, don't trust these toffee-nosed Tories with the running of the country just because they know how to read," urged the grammar-school oik of a prime minister. "Educated people are smarmy know-alls who love to make you feel stupid. Just look at Eggheads on BBC2. Don't you just want to smash your fist into their smug faces? Trust me, you need some ignorant, semi-literate, pig-headed man of the people who thinks he knows a lot more than he does in the driving seat."

Other overprivileged, chinless bastards who have no concept of what it is like to be you include Bear Grylls, Adam & Joe, Helena Bonham-Carter, Peter Gabriel, John McCririck, Hugh Laurie, Robyn Hitchcock, Jeremy Paxman, Adam Hart-Davis, and me.