The Conveyor Belt of Emergencies

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When is an emergency YOUR emergency?  Well, as Covid proved, an emergency is YOUR emergency when the government says so. Government knows you're a selfish, lazy sod who doesn't give a damn about anything except beer, weed and Netflix. Take today, for example. You probably didn't spend five lousy minutes worrying about WAR IN UKRAINE.  Twerps like you would rather fret about paying the astronomic heating bill coming in March, or wondering how much petrol it will cost to drive your dying mum to the jabattoir. If goverment wasn't here to keep you focussed, what an utter bastard you would be.

So I looked out the window this morning and noticed the weather is generally turning for the better -as you would expect towards the end of February. Not so fast! screams government. Catastrophic Climate Change is poised to destroy all life ad we know it! And YOU did this! YOU! Get rid of your clapped out old-banger or else we'll just take it off you, because Net Zero, loser!  

And so it goes, the wheel of misfortune turns again and the boot of bad luck hits your backside as usual. Unless of course, you're living in a faraway country and decide you'd rather live in Briitain. Climate Change, in case you didn't know,  impacts hardest on People of Colour, so don't be surprised when another 3000 agreeably diverse brain surgeons paddle into Dover this week. Don't dare be resentful. Think you hard a hard time during the Covid emergency? Haven't you heard that Covid impacts hardest on the BAME community? Don't play the BAME game, bigot!  

Can't say I'm surprised to see a war though. (We predicted it in January HERE). Covid and Climate were, let's face it, getting a bit old, weren't they?  I mean, it's hard to get all emergency-headed about the same damn emergencies day after day after day. Time for a change, as the politicians like to say - and look! Look - coming down the conveyor belt -what's that I see? 

Blow me down it's a brand new gift-wrapped emergency, just in time for spring. It's ...it's a war. War in the Ukraine! Hurrah for plucky little Ukraine, bravely defying the might of the Evil Russian Empire! Booooo! Boooo to the monster- Vlad the Invader.  Vlad, he;s mad bad, and due for a boo. How dare he try and stop NATO piling up missile batteries and rocket-launchers on the border of Russia? Hisss! Boo Vlad back to Volgagrad!

NEWS ON THE MARCH!

At an undisclosed location near the RAF base at Dimchurch, Prime Minster Winston Johnson was, for no discernible reason whatsoever, pictured sat bolt upright in the cockpit of a motionless fighter-plane. (How did they get him out - with a can opener?) "Britain," the Premier declared,  "is up for this fight, ready for war, ready for anything. We will do whatever it takes, go to any lengths necessary to ensure that the British public completely forgets about the last two years of torture and lies, and those embarassing Downing Street parties. As I was saying...Vlad's bitten off more than he can chew this time. We've got all the latest kit. We've got stacks of mean tweets already written. Photographs of mass-graves already faked taken. We've a massive gi-normous aircraft carrier, too, and just as soon as it gets back from wherever we left it last year we'll jolly well sail it to the...uh... Baltic? Anyway, we'll drop anchor somewhere absolutely near to Russia and by jingo Vlad'll be in for it, when we actually finally get some aircraft to put on the deck, -which could take quite a while I suppose- but oh boy, then all we need is some super-fast rocket thingies to put on the wings of the planes that we'll put on the deck, and we'll train dozens of pilots and crikey, Vlad won't know what hit him... Chocks away!" 

SQUADDY ON THE SPOT

Sources within Westminster insist that ground troops won't be left out of this show, either. BBC TV cameras captured the emotional scenes inside Her Majesty's Barracks at Rumpton, Cheshire, where the Queen's Own Fifth Brigayde (the infamous Non-Binaries) are polishing their buttons in anticipation of a good hard shag battle. And that's not the half of it.  The anonymous heroes of Britain's deadliest force - The Regiment- are already hand-knitting a range of attractive, practical jumpers at their top-secret Herefordshire military base. (Round the corner from the Bridge Inn at Michaelchurch, if you can't spot it from your spy satellite. CLICK HERE FOR DETAILS).  "It's like Iraq all over again," said the landlord. "From dawn till dusk, black-clad desperadoes of the Special Gay Service are in and out of the Lounge bar, practising synchronised dance-routines for Tik-Tok and Only Fans." To get a whiff of just how fierce these soldiers are, check out the latest nude Regimental group photo on Instagram by Captain 'Mincing Mike' MacKillemall (motto: Who Bares Wins).  

GENERAL CONFUSION

Meanwhile, Russia's tyrannical overlord has been left in no doubt as to what he can expect from Britain's Charmed Forces. This very morning, Emperor Vladimir Putin recieved a DM on Twitter from the UK's  newly-appointed Chief of Stuff, General Marginal Hole-Puncher. An anonymous source leaked the General's top-secret message to 99EndOf and it is reproduced below.

Hi Vlad, You don't know me but I've heard SO much about you :-) My pronouns are thee, them, thumbo and pinky but friends call me Marge. We really need to hook up on Zoom ASAP and tackle this Ukraine thingy or you'll be sorry! LOL only kidding! Between you and me I'm up to my ears in Equity workshops until Tuesday week, and the Chinese ambassador's coming for lunch. He's teaching me about Critical Rice Theory. Anyway, it's my turn for the staff sauna, must dash, see you next Tuesday. OMG what am I like! 

MHP xxx

A LEADER SPEAKS 

Not to be outdone, Reichfuhrer Nikolai Sturgeon of the Northern Territory appeared on the steps of Glasgow's City Chambers to address a huge crowd of media-studies interns, wearing the full-dress uniform of a Scots Drag Goon Guard, complete with ceremonial 'staghorn' dildo and goat-sporran rampant.

"Look to the Ukrainian border, comrades," she declared, "and behold your enemy, clad in eye-catching scarlet bonnets of  Mongolian mink, not to mention those all-weather waterproof ankle-boots of Siberian weasel-hide.  Behold the Beast from the East! Comrades, I bear grim tidings. SNP super-spies buried deep within the Kremlin report that as well as invading Ukraine, several Islamophobic tweets have been shared on King Putin's Facebook account. That, as you know, is the last straw. As of this morning, therefore, Scotland is at War with Russia. Details to be confirmed. Terms and Conditions apply. I am proud to announce that in honour of the coming nuclear apocalypse,  Edinburgh will be twinned with Kabul, and Ben Nevis re-named Mohammed's Hump."

#METOO BOYO

Welsh First Minister Marx Drakeford hurried to add his voice to the clamour of denoucements of Putin the Bloody. "It's a bad business, see? We're all Ukranians now, look you. However, I've spoken to the Prime Minister and he assures me that on both sides of the conflict, face masks will be mandatory for all troops of every race and gender, in line with the Welsh Assembly's uniquely Welsh Rules of Covidian  Engagement. With that reassurance in mind, I have called up the reserves from Pontyprith and formed a magnificent new regiment to be named The First All-Welsh Queer Cavalry. The Queers will be trained in the arts of sheep-management and horizontal tango, by hand-picked LGBT hairdressers on Wednesday evenings at the New Inn in Myrthyr Tydfil, BYOB." (Bring your own Bayonet.)

LONDON BRACES ITSELF

"On the plus side," said Home Sickretary Priti Patel, speaking from a bunker two miles beneath Downing Street,  "Britain will of course be making room for at least ten or maybe ninety thousand Ukrainian refugees starting tomorrow. Royal Navy floating hotels are on their way to the channel in anticipation of a bumper crowd. We've just got to pull a few strings to get the Yookies onto the council-house queue behind the Somalis, Syrians, Pakistanis, Yemenis, Indians, Romanians, Poles, Czechs and  Afghanis. As voters well know, where immigration is concerned, the buck stops with Vlad the Inhaler. For my part, I'm delighted to announce that the UK's  borders are open for business as usual. Come one, come all! Plenty of room on the vast open prairies, here on the gigantic continent of Britain." 

Ian Andrew-Patrick

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