The following rant was smuggled out of Lower Brexitannia as part of a forbidden cache of Unpatriotic Writings hidden in the clothing of a party of disguised Librarians and a yak called Dave. None of the Librarians made it to the border, but Dave did. This is so not his story.


“It is my sad duty to inform you that last night, after a long but ultimately futile struggle against the barbarity of anti-democratic ‘conservatism’, the outsourced corporate franchise formerly known as the United Kingdom of Great Britain and (checks notes) Northern Ireland (Really? I thought we’d hived that off to the EU? Not yet? Could have fooled me) ceased to exist as an independent country of laws when it surrendered to some scruffy balding bastard called Dom. In accordance with this new reality, subjects of the Dominion of Dom are ordered to stop bloody whinging and get themselves properly infected ASAP so that he can promote the survivors as a probably immune and thoroughly yoke-broken workforce to whichever coalition of cash-stuffed oligarchs it is he’s promised the carcass of your country to. Anyone who has a problem with this can just dry their eyes and put on some big-boy pants, pronto. Eugenics is the only future on offer, proles, and if it costs the lives of 100,000 or 200,000 of the genetically weak to put another million or two in Big Dom’s tracksuit pocket, well, that’s not really much of a sacrifice, is it? More of a purification, actually. A distillation of all that is worthwhile into a form more pleasing to the Illuminated Ones and their shareholders. Thank you for your time, and should you still have any questions after this perfectly clear description of the facts as they stand, please direct them towards the snuffling and bewildered mass of masturbatory instincts in an ill-fitting suit you might recognise as “That fat wanker off the telly who the newspapers told you to elect Prime Minister last year.”

So, yeah, that happened.

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