The lives of those killed four years ago in London's 7/7 bombings have been trivialised forever by some sort of wonky fence, which was unveiled today in a poignant ceremony attended by Gordon Brown, the Duke and Duchess of Cornwall, Trevor McDonald, Tessa Jowell and anyone else who wanted to get their face on television and hadn't won a ticket to the Michael Jackson Total Death Experience.
The achingly dull monument, which somehow cost almost £1m, consists of fifty-two 3.5m strips of stainless steel from a builder's yard, stuck in the ground in four groups in a half-hearted nod to the four separate attack locations, and has an estimated scrap value of almost £200.
"In years to come, people will see this monument and reflect quietly to themselves: 'Hello, some silly bugger's left a load of metal strips in Hyde Park, what the fuck's that all about then?'" said Sir Trevor. "If they have nothing better to do, they might even wander over out of idle curiosity and read the small plaque which explains that 52 people were killed in one day by suicide bombers. Some might say we might as well just have unveiled a plaque - but, of course, then we wouldn't have got all these TV cameras to come along, would we?"
"My turn," said Gordon Brown, rubbing his hands together with glee at a rare chance to appear in public without being pelted with balloons filled with urine. "People should remember at all times that sheer naked terror is all around us, and anyone you meet in the street could be wearing an explosive belt - especially if they have a beard or look a bit funny to you. That is why the police should be allowed to beat the living shit out of anybody they happen to take a dislike to, and occasionally kill innocent members of the public, in order to protect the traditional hard-won freedoms which the British people hold so dear."
"This monument might be as ugly as sin," added Tessa Jowell, "But if its stark, jagged nihilism sends a shiver of fear down the spine of everyone who sees it, then it's serving its purpose well - namely, to remind you that you could all be blown to bloody fragments at any moment, and that any price is worth paying to keep you cowed and terrified."
"It really is appalling," concluded Prince Charles at the end of the ceremony, although it was not clear if he was referring to the terror attack, the memorial or the fact that those survivors who were maimed for life have, as usual, been pushed into the background as their appalling injuries are not considered sufficiently photogenic or on-message.
Tuesday, 7 July 2009
UN To Discuss Coffee Republic Coup
The UN is to discuss what measures should be taken, after hearing that the Coffee Republic had been taken over by accountants KPMG.
The mercenary accountants moved swiftly to seize control after the embattled Republic issued a desperate call for help with its crippling national debt. The streets were reported to be quiet, with shops empty save for a few confused Coffee Republicans who face an uncertain future.
"I'm not even sure what a caramel macchiato is, let alone whether I work directly for the Republic or one of its franchisees," admitted one fearful worker in darkest Richmond.
Coffee Republic's rulers have conceded control of their bankrupt state to the mercenaries, but remain holed up safely in their impregnable holding company.
Several western governments have expressed fears that the dreaded 'domino effect' could spread to other vulnerable coffee-retailing areas, including neighbouring Costa, Caffe Nero and the dominant, posturing Starbucks.
"The collapse of the Coffee Republic is a matter of great concern to the British Government," Gordon Brown warned the UN Security Council. "If middle-class shoppers are deprived of somewhere to sit down and overdose on sugar, fat and caffeine every fifteen minutes, there is a very real danger of civil war breaking out in the streets of Great Britain. That is why I urge the United Nations to approve an emergency aid package for the plucky little Coffee Republic, whose parlous financial affairs are in no way connected to the massive recession I caused, which by the way I didn't."
Seasoned observers, however, expect the United States to veto any such measures unless they include substantial injections of capital into Starbucks, its unscrupulous ally which dominates the troubled region.
The mercenary accountants moved swiftly to seize control after the embattled Republic issued a desperate call for help with its crippling national debt. The streets were reported to be quiet, with shops empty save for a few confused Coffee Republicans who face an uncertain future.
"I'm not even sure what a caramel macchiato is, let alone whether I work directly for the Republic or one of its franchisees," admitted one fearful worker in darkest Richmond.
Coffee Republic's rulers have conceded control of their bankrupt state to the mercenaries, but remain holed up safely in their impregnable holding company.
Several western governments have expressed fears that the dreaded 'domino effect' could spread to other vulnerable coffee-retailing areas, including neighbouring Costa, Caffe Nero and the dominant, posturing Starbucks.
"The collapse of the Coffee Republic is a matter of great concern to the British Government," Gordon Brown warned the UN Security Council. "If middle-class shoppers are deprived of somewhere to sit down and overdose on sugar, fat and caffeine every fifteen minutes, there is a very real danger of civil war breaking out in the streets of Great Britain. That is why I urge the United Nations to approve an emergency aid package for the plucky little Coffee Republic, whose parlous financial affairs are in no way connected to the massive recession I caused, which by the way I didn't."
Seasoned observers, however, expect the United States to veto any such measures unless they include substantial injections of capital into Starbucks, its unscrupulous ally which dominates the troubled region.
Monday, 6 July 2009
What Have Public Servants Ever Done For Us? Demand Angry Public
There has been widespread public support for a public sector pay freeze, after the idea was floated by Steve Bundred, chief executive of the Idiot Commission.
"Public servants can easily afford to tread water for a year," said Mr Bundred. "For example, if I'm prepared to make my £20,000 a month stretch a bit further by switching the patio lights off while I'm at work, I don't see why my office cleaner can't show the same willing by turning off her fridge."
"Public sector workers? Fuck 'em," snorted Rob Blind, a hard-pressed futures trader in the City. "Only last week some jumped-up little twat drove up in a crappy little Ka and told me to dismantle the conservatory I'd tacked onto the balcony of my Chelsea penthouse just because I hadn't asked the local junta for 'permission'. I pay my bloody council tax, don't I? I've had to forego my bonus, and I've helped make this country what it is today - so I don't see why these unproductive parasites should get paid anything at all."
Car salesman Darren Lye agreed. "Teachers get paid half a million a year - don't laugh, a friend of a mate down the pub used to be married to one, so that's straight from the horse's mouth. They just sit on their backsides and file their nails while the kids murder each other, and that's on the rare occasions when they're not snorting chianti in their bloody villas in Tuscany. I say round 'em all up, make 'em live in sheds and don't feed the bastards until every kid can write their name with a pencil. Some of us have real work to do, like me - slogging my sodding guts out trying to turn the economy round. Christ, I actually sold a Picanto this morning. They ought to give me a medal."
"Wanna buy a T-reg Freelander, mate?" he added. Fifteen hundred to you, squire. Go on, it's a lovely little runner, be a shame to see it go to the scrapheap."
A snap poll conducted by the Nev Filter showed that 18% of the public were in favour of a pay freeze, 27% wanted swingeing pay cuts for public servants and 42% would like the public sector abolished altogether.
The poll also indicated that the public had little or no idea what the public sector actually was, with 73% of those opposing increases simultaneously demanding better pay for soldiers serving in the Middle East.
"Public servants can easily afford to tread water for a year," said Mr Bundred. "For example, if I'm prepared to make my £20,000 a month stretch a bit further by switching the patio lights off while I'm at work, I don't see why my office cleaner can't show the same willing by turning off her fridge."
"Public sector workers? Fuck 'em," snorted Rob Blind, a hard-pressed futures trader in the City. "Only last week some jumped-up little twat drove up in a crappy little Ka and told me to dismantle the conservatory I'd tacked onto the balcony of my Chelsea penthouse just because I hadn't asked the local junta for 'permission'. I pay my bloody council tax, don't I? I've had to forego my bonus, and I've helped make this country what it is today - so I don't see why these unproductive parasites should get paid anything at all."
Car salesman Darren Lye agreed. "Teachers get paid half a million a year - don't laugh, a friend of a mate down the pub used to be married to one, so that's straight from the horse's mouth. They just sit on their backsides and file their nails while the kids murder each other, and that's on the rare occasions when they're not snorting chianti in their bloody villas in Tuscany. I say round 'em all up, make 'em live in sheds and don't feed the bastards until every kid can write their name with a pencil. Some of us have real work to do, like me - slogging my sodding guts out trying to turn the economy round. Christ, I actually sold a Picanto this morning. They ought to give me a medal."
"Wanna buy a T-reg Freelander, mate?" he added. Fifteen hundred to you, squire. Go on, it's a lovely little runner, be a shame to see it go to the scrapheap."
A snap poll conducted by the Nev Filter showed that 18% of the public were in favour of a pay freeze, 27% wanted swingeing pay cuts for public servants and 42% would like the public sector abolished altogether.
The poll also indicated that the public had little or no idea what the public sector actually was, with 73% of those opposing increases simultaneously demanding better pay for soldiers serving in the Middle East.
Ryanair Boss Announces Latest Demented Plan To Make Passengers Pay Less, Suffer More
No-frills airline Ryanair is investigating the possibility of making passengers cling to the leading edge of the wings, after chief executive Michael O'Leary watched the Flight of the Phoenix on DVD last night.
"Our tight-fisted, penny-pinching passengers are scum of the worst kind, and if I had my way they wouldn't be allowed on our planes at all," hissed Mr O'Leary from his rubber-walled office. "But the bastards seem to think that peeling off a couple of fivers and giving them to me somehow entitles them to a flight."
Ryanair is said to be in discussions with Boeing about the possibility of screwing a job lot of B&Q drawer handles to the leading-edge slats of its fleet of airliners. However, a spokesman for the manufacturers pointed out that dozens of bodies flailing in the 450-knot slipstream would almost certainly have some disruptive effect on the airflow over the upper wing surface, leading to a catastrophic loss of lift and certain death for all aboard the aircraft.
"Perhaps Mr O'Leary ought to watch A Bridge Too Far instead," he suggested. "A stout cable attached to the tail of a 737-400 should be able to tow up to fifty passengers in a flimsy glider - or a hundred if they just wear roller skates and hang on for grim life."
"And if the plane encounters difficulties, the pilot can always cast off the tow rope," he added sagely.
Ryanair's long-suffering passengers said they were open to suggestions, as long as they were able to amuse themselves in the departure lounge by pushing Mr O'Leary's head down a toilet and banging the seat repeatedly against his neck until he stopped moving.
"Our tight-fisted, penny-pinching passengers are scum of the worst kind, and if I had my way they wouldn't be allowed on our planes at all," hissed Mr O'Leary from his rubber-walled office. "But the bastards seem to think that peeling off a couple of fivers and giving them to me somehow entitles them to a flight."
Ryanair is said to be in discussions with Boeing about the possibility of screwing a job lot of B&Q drawer handles to the leading-edge slats of its fleet of airliners. However, a spokesman for the manufacturers pointed out that dozens of bodies flailing in the 450-knot slipstream would almost certainly have some disruptive effect on the airflow over the upper wing surface, leading to a catastrophic loss of lift and certain death for all aboard the aircraft.
"Perhaps Mr O'Leary ought to watch A Bridge Too Far instead," he suggested. "A stout cable attached to the tail of a 737-400 should be able to tow up to fifty passengers in a flimsy glider - or a hundred if they just wear roller skates and hang on for grim life."
"And if the plane encounters difficulties, the pilot can always cast off the tow rope," he added sagely.
Ryanair's long-suffering passengers said they were open to suggestions, as long as they were able to amuse themselves in the departure lounge by pushing Mr O'Leary's head down a toilet and banging the seat repeatedly against his neck until he stopped moving.
Sunday, 5 July 2009
Secret Agent's Data Has Been Removed, Promises Cat-Stroking Facebook Boss
Britain's security has been fatally compromised and we can expect to fall into the clutches of SPECTRE by Tuesday afternoon, warned Tory MP Patrick Mercer, the chairman of the parliamentary Counter-Terrorism Sub-Committee, after potential details of Agent 007 appeared on the social networking site Facebook.
According to the information posted by Commander James Bond's 7,625 former girlfriends, seduced femmes fatales, one-night stands and car-park quickies, Britain's top superspy drinks dry Martinis, wears dozens of expensive watches and drives very fast cars.
"This highly-sensitive data would be invaluable to the enemies of freedom," quavered a trembling Mr Mercer. "We are desperately trying to track down every woman whom Commander Bond has ever fondled, groped or poked."
"As you can imagine, the task is a formidable one," he added.
Facebook's creator and chief executive has, however, been quick to reassure the Secret Service that the top-secret posts have already been removed from public display.
"There is nothing whatsoever to worry about," said Ernst Stavro Blofeld. "The weak, vulnerable British government can trust us to locate and destroy any information which might be used to contribute to Agent 007's downfall. Facebook has built a very big data shredder, the like of which the world has never seen, in our headquarters inside a hollowed-out volcanic island - and I would like to cordially invite Mr Bond to come and inspect it for himself at close quarters."
The last occurrence of a security breach of similar magnitude took place in 1979, when spymaster M was on the receiving end of a well-mixed molotov - despite being equipped with an ingenious boogie-capable suitcase - as a direct consequence of talking about pop musik in New York, London, Paris and Munich.
According to the information posted by Commander James Bond's 7,625 former girlfriends, seduced femmes fatales, one-night stands and car-park quickies, Britain's top superspy drinks dry Martinis, wears dozens of expensive watches and drives very fast cars.
"This highly-sensitive data would be invaluable to the enemies of freedom," quavered a trembling Mr Mercer. "We are desperately trying to track down every woman whom Commander Bond has ever fondled, groped or poked."
"As you can imagine, the task is a formidable one," he added.
Facebook's creator and chief executive has, however, been quick to reassure the Secret Service that the top-secret posts have already been removed from public display.
"There is nothing whatsoever to worry about," said Ernst Stavro Blofeld. "The weak, vulnerable British government can trust us to locate and destroy any information which might be used to contribute to Agent 007's downfall. Facebook has built a very big data shredder, the like of which the world has never seen, in our headquarters inside a hollowed-out volcanic island - and I would like to cordially invite Mr Bond to come and inspect it for himself at close quarters."
The last occurrence of a security breach of similar magnitude took place in 1979, when spymaster M was on the receiving end of a well-mixed molotov - despite being equipped with an ingenious boogie-capable suitcase - as a direct consequence of talking about pop musik in New York, London, Paris and Munich.
Bishop of Rochester Calls On Gays To Repent or Be Cast Into Darkest Pit of Hell
Bishop 'Buggerlugs' Nazir-Ali, the fearsome Bishop of Rochester, Lewes and Willesden Junction, has sparked furious debate by calling on gays and lesbians in the Church of England to repent.
The bishop - who is stepping down in September, after boycotting the church's Lambeth Walk earlier this year - told the Sunday Telegraph: "The Bible's teaching shows that marriage is between a man and a woman - not some ponce in a dress and a monstrous laboratory experiment with tits and a willy."
"We welcome homosexuals - in fact we're warming the pokers for them right now," he continued. "We don't want to exclude people, but we want them to repent of their abominable cock-gobbling and rug-munching perversions and be changed into something resembling a decent human being fit to enter God's holy church without being fried to a cinder by a well-earned bolt of lightning."
"You know, in a very real sense, it makes me want to puke my ruddy guts out whenever I think of a buff, athletic young stallion doing unspeakable things to his fellow man's pert, superbly-toned bottom," he added. "Blimey, guv'nor, I don't even want to think about it - an' yet, funnily enough, I can't seem to think about nuffink else. I want to watch them fuck a member of the opposite sex bandy an' scream with holy sexual abandon before I'll let benders and dykes set foot inside my bastard nave, know wot I mean?"
"Please excuse me for a moment, won't you?" he added. "I feel that God is calling me to the bathroom."
"Vicars with tits was bad enough," ranted the bishop when he returned. "But if you arsk me, mate, the rot set in good and proper when they started letting wogs dress up in white man's vestments. I mean, fair enough, there's a bit of a clergy shortage an' all that, I grant yer - but I shouldn't be a bleedin' bishop, should I? By rights, I oughter be leapin' round in a loincloth, worshipping a sodding great wooden cock or something. A darky bishop? It ain't right, I tell yer straight."
Peter Tatchell, a militant campaigner and self-professed connoisseur of the masculine bottom, refused to comment on suggestions that Lord Percy has been invited to take part in a planned 'honey-trap' publicity stunt involving the bishop, a portrait painter and a dildo of truly frightening proportions.
The bishop - who is stepping down in September, after boycotting the church's Lambeth Walk earlier this year - told the Sunday Telegraph: "The Bible's teaching shows that marriage is between a man and a woman - not some ponce in a dress and a monstrous laboratory experiment with tits and a willy."
"We welcome homosexuals - in fact we're warming the pokers for them right now," he continued. "We don't want to exclude people, but we want them to repent of their abominable cock-gobbling and rug-munching perversions and be changed into something resembling a decent human being fit to enter God's holy church without being fried to a cinder by a well-earned bolt of lightning."
"You know, in a very real sense, it makes me want to puke my ruddy guts out whenever I think of a buff, athletic young stallion doing unspeakable things to his fellow man's pert, superbly-toned bottom," he added. "Blimey, guv'nor, I don't even want to think about it - an' yet, funnily enough, I can't seem to think about nuffink else. I want to watch them fuck a member of the opposite sex bandy an' scream with holy sexual abandon before I'll let benders and dykes set foot inside my bastard nave, know wot I mean?"
"Please excuse me for a moment, won't you?" he added. "I feel that God is calling me to the bathroom."
"Vicars with tits was bad enough," ranted the bishop when he returned. "But if you arsk me, mate, the rot set in good and proper when they started letting wogs dress up in white man's vestments. I mean, fair enough, there's a bit of a clergy shortage an' all that, I grant yer - but I shouldn't be a bleedin' bishop, should I? By rights, I oughter be leapin' round in a loincloth, worshipping a sodding great wooden cock or something. A darky bishop? It ain't right, I tell yer straight."
Peter Tatchell, a militant campaigner and self-professed connoisseur of the masculine bottom, refused to comment on suggestions that Lord Percy has been invited to take part in a planned 'honey-trap' publicity stunt involving the bishop, a portrait painter and a dildo of truly frightening proportions.
Saturday, 4 July 2009
BT Spares Trauma of Redundancy By Inviting Staff To Starve
Ailing phone company BT is offering staff the opportunity to starve to death at home, rather than going to work and fucking things up even more.
"Twenty years ago, BT was modestly going about its business of making £97 a second by graciously allowing people to have a telephone line," sobbed the company's teenage chief executive, Ian Livingston. "Then one day, after a superb lunch at Les Quat' Saisons, the board of directors suddenly decided to sell off our mobile phone offshoot just when it was starting to turn a profit and pretend to be a networked software provider instead. Don't blame me for that, I was busy learning to use a potty at the time."
"BT studied leading players like EDS and Fujitsu, who were getting rich on lucrative government contracts by half-heartedly tweaking programs that patently didn't work and never would," he continued, "And we looked at our home-grown CSS database, which we abandoned for being utterly unfit for purpose after three miserable years, and thought, 'Hey, we can do that!' Unfortunately, something else it turned out we couldn't do was negotiate a contract. So, unlike the other companies involved in the NHS computer fiasco, we have to pay the government a penalty for every day we put back the completion date. It's not my fault - I was sulking at the time after being told to tidy my room."
"Unfortunately for our shareholders, in a fit of spectacularly ill-advised enthusiasm we agreed to pick up the other companies' indecipherable coding when they were finally kicked off the job," added Mr Livingston, "And the earth will be consumed by its dying sun long before the bloody program stops filling every data field with nines every time a doctor issues a prescription. I wasn't responsible for that decision either, actually. I was spending most of my working day in the executive washroom, after discovering the joys of playing with myself."
Staff are being invited to stay away from their jobs for a year on 25% of their pay, in the hope that the program will somehow become self-aware and remedy its own failings.
"I have absolutely no idea how that might happen," admitted Mr Livingston. "After all, I am the chief executive of British Telecom, and I didn't get where I am today by understanding things. But that shouldn't stop me from collecting my £850,000 salary, nor indeed my £680,000 performance bonus."
"Twenty years ago, BT was modestly going about its business of making £97 a second by graciously allowing people to have a telephone line," sobbed the company's teenage chief executive, Ian Livingston. "Then one day, after a superb lunch at Les Quat' Saisons, the board of directors suddenly decided to sell off our mobile phone offshoot just when it was starting to turn a profit and pretend to be a networked software provider instead. Don't blame me for that, I was busy learning to use a potty at the time."
"BT studied leading players like EDS and Fujitsu, who were getting rich on lucrative government contracts by half-heartedly tweaking programs that patently didn't work and never would," he continued, "And we looked at our home-grown CSS database, which we abandoned for being utterly unfit for purpose after three miserable years, and thought, 'Hey, we can do that!' Unfortunately, something else it turned out we couldn't do was negotiate a contract. So, unlike the other companies involved in the NHS computer fiasco, we have to pay the government a penalty for every day we put back the completion date. It's not my fault - I was sulking at the time after being told to tidy my room."
"Unfortunately for our shareholders, in a fit of spectacularly ill-advised enthusiasm we agreed to pick up the other companies' indecipherable coding when they were finally kicked off the job," added Mr Livingston, "And the earth will be consumed by its dying sun long before the bloody program stops filling every data field with nines every time a doctor issues a prescription. I wasn't responsible for that decision either, actually. I was spending most of my working day in the executive washroom, after discovering the joys of playing with myself."
Staff are being invited to stay away from their jobs for a year on 25% of their pay, in the hope that the program will somehow become self-aware and remedy its own failings.
"I have absolutely no idea how that might happen," admitted Mr Livingston. "After all, I am the chief executive of British Telecom, and I didn't get where I am today by understanding things. But that shouldn't stop me from collecting my £850,000 salary, nor indeed my £680,000 performance bonus."
Ecclestone 'Gets Things Done', Says Hitler
Adolf Hitler has been granted temporary leave from the fieriest pit of hell to give a newspaper interview on the subject of Formula One.
Speaking with difficulty due to his lips being crudely stitched together with a burning coal in his mouth, the unrepentant architect of Nazism mumbled candidly about his admiration for F1's owner, Bernie Ecclestone.
"Say vot you like, zat liddle mop-top shortarse ist ein great dictator," said Hitler, looking a little the worse for wear after enduring 64 years of intimacy with red-hot skewers. "I vos screaming mit Saddam Hussein only yesterday during zer daily genital-roasting, und ve both vish ve had his ability to command a lot of peoples und to get things done."
"He is der only vun who can control der Formula Vun," explained the smouldering führer. "He moves into countries und he has no idea of kultur, he just takes all zer cash zer corrupt governments throw at him, tells zem vat he vants und zey build it. Zer are peoples starving in Afrika, und he sits back - alzough he might be standing, it's hard to tell - and does nudding except count his moneys. Vot a guy!"
Stifling sobs of agony caused by the dozens of pins stuck into his eyeballs, the former leader of Nazi Germany urged Mr Ecclestone not to get taken away by the rebellious F1 teams and persuaded to do things he had no idea could be done or not - such as letting them spend their own money on their own cars as they see fit without his bloated lackey, the black-uniformed Josef Mosley, inflicting his insane race theories on them, such as ordering all cars to be fitted with at least one square wheel.
"He says he vants a Jewish black female in zer sport to boost zer appeal," added Herr Hitler hurriedly, as a deep, booming voice recalled him to hell for his daily flensing. "Zat vould indeed make zer excellent trophy for zer vinning driver."
Speaking with difficulty due to his lips being crudely stitched together with a burning coal in his mouth, the unrepentant architect of Nazism mumbled candidly about his admiration for F1's owner, Bernie Ecclestone.
"Say vot you like, zat liddle mop-top shortarse ist ein great dictator," said Hitler, looking a little the worse for wear after enduring 64 years of intimacy with red-hot skewers. "I vos screaming mit Saddam Hussein only yesterday during zer daily genital-roasting, und ve both vish ve had his ability to command a lot of peoples und to get things done."
"He is der only vun who can control der Formula Vun," explained the smouldering führer. "He moves into countries und he has no idea of kultur, he just takes all zer cash zer corrupt governments throw at him, tells zem vat he vants und zey build it. Zer are peoples starving in Afrika, und he sits back - alzough he might be standing, it's hard to tell - and does nudding except count his moneys. Vot a guy!"
Stifling sobs of agony caused by the dozens of pins stuck into his eyeballs, the former leader of Nazi Germany urged Mr Ecclestone not to get taken away by the rebellious F1 teams and persuaded to do things he had no idea could be done or not - such as letting them spend their own money on their own cars as they see fit without his bloated lackey, the black-uniformed Josef Mosley, inflicting his insane race theories on them, such as ordering all cars to be fitted with at least one square wheel.
"He says he vants a Jewish black female in zer sport to boost zer appeal," added Herr Hitler hurriedly, as a deep, booming voice recalled him to hell for his daily flensing. "Zat vould indeed make zer excellent trophy for zer vinning driver."
Friday, 3 July 2009
Dead Woman Proves Economic Model Now Independent of Human Involvement
The business community was rejoicing today over the news that an Edinburgh woman, Isabella Purves, continued to function successfully as a contributing economic unit for up to five years after her death.
"Obviously we're deeply upset to learn that Mrs Purves' dessicated remains have been discovered, lying forgotten in her flat, by police," said her bank manager. "After five years of automatic pension payments, with no withdrawals except for direct debits to the utility companies, her current account had built up a healthy credit balance and earned us a fair bit of interest."
A representative of the power companies agreed, pointing out that, as Mrs Purves' consumption of electricity and gas had fallen off sharply after her death without them feeling any pressing need to lower her direct debit payments accordingly, they too had made a tidy profit from her.
"In monetary terms, we have now reached the happy place where we can dispense with tiresome, unreliable human beings entirely," explained an analyst from the Economic And Social Research Council. "Not only has Isabella Purves proved that the system can function perfectly well without the need for actual, physical customers; but, as she has not once troubled a customer services department since her lonely demise, companies should be able to substantially reduce their staff costs."
"Obviously, it's not a perfect system when we are paying out state benefits to dead people, just so the private sector can get rich simply by doing nothing," admitted chancellor Alistair Darling. "We'd beat the recession a lot quicker if we could just funnel the money straight from the Treasury into companies' coffers. Unfortunately, this is not really feasible in an economic model which still takes into account the living. Rest assured, however, that we are working tirelessly to introduce measures which will streamline the system by eliminating them from the equation completely."
A grateful business community has nominated the late Scotswoman for the Nobel Memorial Prize for Economics. Meanwhile, bank and utility staff have been seen in numerous graveyards, armed with laptops and furiously tapping in the names of the deceased.
"Obviously we're deeply upset to learn that Mrs Purves' dessicated remains have been discovered, lying forgotten in her flat, by police," said her bank manager. "After five years of automatic pension payments, with no withdrawals except for direct debits to the utility companies, her current account had built up a healthy credit balance and earned us a fair bit of interest."
A representative of the power companies agreed, pointing out that, as Mrs Purves' consumption of electricity and gas had fallen off sharply after her death without them feeling any pressing need to lower her direct debit payments accordingly, they too had made a tidy profit from her.
"In monetary terms, we have now reached the happy place where we can dispense with tiresome, unreliable human beings entirely," explained an analyst from the Economic And Social Research Council. "Not only has Isabella Purves proved that the system can function perfectly well without the need for actual, physical customers; but, as she has not once troubled a customer services department since her lonely demise, companies should be able to substantially reduce their staff costs."
"Obviously, it's not a perfect system when we are paying out state benefits to dead people, just so the private sector can get rich simply by doing nothing," admitted chancellor Alistair Darling. "We'd beat the recession a lot quicker if we could just funnel the money straight from the Treasury into companies' coffers. Unfortunately, this is not really feasible in an economic model which still takes into account the living. Rest assured, however, that we are working tirelessly to introduce measures which will streamline the system by eliminating them from the equation completely."
A grateful business community has nominated the late Scotswoman for the Nobel Memorial Prize for Economics. Meanwhile, bank and utility staff have been seen in numerous graveyards, armed with laptops and furiously tapping in the names of the deceased.
Huge Queues Form At Top Gyms
Exclusive health clubs in London have been beseiged by applications for membership, following Tony Blair's appearance at an awards ceremony sporting a black eye which his former publicist Alistair Campbell later said the former prime minister had received in the gym.
Mr Blair's movements are a closely-guarded secret as, for some reason, a lot of people want to hurt him badly. However, members of the public eager to tell him what they think of his New Labour project now it approaches its natural conclusion have been organising themselves into teams, covering every possible location where Mr Blair might conceivably spend ten minutes on a Nautilus.
Although prices at top people's health clubs are kept astronomically high to keep out the riff-raff, devastated communities are clubbing together to pay for three-month trial memberships for long-term unemployed men, who will cover each gym in shifts, hanging around the hot tubs and plunge pools until one of them spots Mr Blair - at which point they are expected to twat him severely, on behalf of everyone back home.
"Of course, the smarmy little shit could just avoid gyms for a while," admitted a former Rover worker from the Midlands. "But we're relying on his colossal vanity to drive him back into his exercise regime the moment he finds himself having to breathe in a bit to button his trousers."
"Funnily enough, although we haven't spotted Blair yet, several of our scouts in different locations have noticed Gordon Brown skulking about with his arse out the back of a threadbare towel, apparently with the same intention in mind," he added. "If you see him limping about nursing his bollocks - that was us."
Mr Blair's movements are a closely-guarded secret as, for some reason, a lot of people want to hurt him badly. However, members of the public eager to tell him what they think of his New Labour project now it approaches its natural conclusion have been organising themselves into teams, covering every possible location where Mr Blair might conceivably spend ten minutes on a Nautilus.
Although prices at top people's health clubs are kept astronomically high to keep out the riff-raff, devastated communities are clubbing together to pay for three-month trial memberships for long-term unemployed men, who will cover each gym in shifts, hanging around the hot tubs and plunge pools until one of them spots Mr Blair - at which point they are expected to twat him severely, on behalf of everyone back home.
"Of course, the smarmy little shit could just avoid gyms for a while," admitted a former Rover worker from the Midlands. "But we're relying on his colossal vanity to drive him back into his exercise regime the moment he finds himself having to breathe in a bit to button his trousers."
"Funnily enough, although we haven't spotted Blair yet, several of our scouts in different locations have noticed Gordon Brown skulking about with his arse out the back of a threadbare towel, apparently with the same intention in mind," he added. "If you see him limping about nursing his bollocks - that was us."
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