Current guidelines recommend that rich, upper-class children get their five-a-day of unprovoked blows to the head, or at least three proper kickings a week, to ensure they grow up to be properly adjusted adults with an accurate sense of their own worth.

‘Cameron’s blend of smug self-assurance and empty rhetoric can only be a result of his being under-bullied as a child,’ said leading paediatrician Dr Gonzales today. ‘Just one look at his milky-white, red-cheeked face and it’s clear that it hasn’t been punched anything like often enough or hard enough. Sure, he had a tough break being born into wealth and a private education, but at the end of the day if our teachers aren’t turning a blind eye when an annoying posh kid gets beaten up, then what on earth are we paying them for?’

Concerns were raised after specialists spotted that Cameron’s steady flow of vacuous platitudes and shameless posturing was issuing from a symmetrical face boasting both an unbroken nose and teeth unaltered by barroom dentistry. ‘How he’s survived so long without getting a real pummelling is beyond me,’ continued Dr Gonzales. ‘Our research has found no recorded instances of a request from an Eton and Oxford-educated aristocrat to ‘call him Dave’ not being answered with violence.’

Doctors are now concerned that as Cameron hasn’t had the shit beaten out of him anytime recently, it may begin exiting his body through other routes, most likely in the form of policy announcements, or worse, unsolicited details about his personal life. There are also fears that the condition, labelled victim-deficit disorder, may be rife in the Tory party, with observers agreeing that both George Osborne and Boris Johnson would benefit enormously from being caught without an umbrella in a force-nine fist storm.

A triumph for classless, free-market principles

The Association of Private Schools today launched a new service which allows state-school pupils to experience fee-paying lessons on a pay-as-you-go basis.

‘Someone such as our first customer Degsy, from an estate in Scunthorpe, can now attend a Latin class at St Georges College, Hampshire in exchange for his dinner money,’ explained Tamara Monkworth-Hall, the Association’s finance director.  ‘He gives up pie and chips and instead learns how to say ‘ad majorem Dei gloriam.’  It’s bound to come in useful during his apprenticeship at Kwik Fit.’

Ms Monkworth-Hall is hopeful that as Degsy lives on an estate he will already have much in common with most private school pupils.  ‘I asked him if he shot grouse on his estate. He said yes, all the youngsters love grass, and most weekends there’s a shooting.’

But at the end of full time, Jack Randle, the team’s coach and father of hapless goalkeeper Timmy gave the miserable squad an uplifting team talk that compared the future life prospects of the soccer losers from St Judes with the skilful and physically braver working-class boys in the other team.

‘You may have lost 12 – 0 today against this big bunch of bullies. But let’s get things in perspective. You are going to have much nicer lives than them. They’re going to be poor. You are all going to get well paid jobs in a warm dry office. They are going to have to lift heavy things in the rain for a pittance. One day, some of those eleven year old thugs laughing over there may develop poverty-related diseases or become drug addicts from their time in prison. Who are the losers boys; them or you?’

At this point one or two of the other parents attempted to step in to end the talk, saying ‘Er anyway, well tried lads, it’s just a game, eh?’ but Mr Randle would not be stopped. ‘Take a good look at their faces boys. One day, one of them will be driving the mini-cab that takes you to the airport. You make sure you keep them waiting outside your nice big house for ages. If they are sweeping the streets in your road, drop a crisp packet as you walk past them. They have won one game of football. You are going to win the game of life.’

At this point the victorious team coach strolled across to shake hands and asked ‘Oi didn’t my team play your lot when we were kids mate?’ Mr Randle replied ‘Definitely not. I drive a Saab Turbo you know.’

jof