Incomprehensible Boris blatherings such as ‘Doubling down on levelling up’, ‘Care homes didn’t not do as we never didn’t not tell them what not to do’, and ‘Push pineapple, grind coffee, to the right, to the further right, bring the country to its knees’ have been revealed as test broadcasts for a reboot of 1980s teatime favourite 3-2-1.
With TV repeats scraping the barrel, 3-2-1’s cosy incoherence is intended to bamboozle the recklessly unshackled nation into a collective torpor, reducing significant pressure on police forces and Keep Britain Tidy volunteers.
Perplexed pilot audience member Sam Jenson said; ‘Finally, all that government waffle about 5 levels, 3 phases, 20 rings of power, 3 steps to heaven, stay baffled to defeat the Visigoths, 10 Lords a leaping, and 3034,974,000&1/2 tests makes sense. Well, of course not, but now I see it cleverly weeds out all but the nerdiest Dungeons and Dragons fans and dustiest Anglo-Saxon scholars before the final round.’
‘The old 3-2-1 boasted inexplicable prizes, like a hamper of spam, 20 harmonicas, or a St. Bernard dog’, continued Jenson. ‘I guess the equivalent this time will be some grimy second-hand sourdough starter, a bum implant, or the chance to continue clinging to life for a few hapless months more. Which would be nice.’
Bulking out the proposed daily televised government briefing slot, the reboot will feature the PM as a mercifully occasional guest presenter ‘popping in’ in his downtime from WWE, with Priti Patel on the numbers unicycle.
Producers have confirmed the return of Dusty Bin, whose sweaty, claustrophobic costume will be filled by those co-opted government science and health advisors who dared roll their eyes during the daily coronavirus briefings.