Critics of the newly incumbent Prime Minister have expressed their ‘astonishment and disbelief’ at his measured performance – by his standards – since assuming the role.
In his first weeks of office he has not attempted to mate with any female World Leaders, alienated any region of the UK (again) with inflammatory stereotyping, or marked out his new territory with an elaborate display of public masturbation. Worries about BoJo’s effortless ability to get in a figurative (or literal) shit-flinging contest with, well, virtually anybody, have also been unfounded.
‘It’s uncanny,’ quoted one seasoned Johnson-watcher ‘the lack of gaffes makes you think that the real PM is under restraint in the wine cellar at number 10 whilst a carefully managed and handled DoppelBoris has taken his place.’
A number of look-alike agencies have been quick to deny any involvement in supplying a PfeffelGanger to Downing Street, citing that the unusual physiognomy and mannerisms of Our New Leader make it very difficult to source a double, although one company did cagily suggest they could shave an albino orangutan and work up from there.