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Jacob Rees-Mogg has reportedly paid his apothecary a handful of guineas to release the polio vaccine as part of his plan to get back to the 'good old days' when women were witches and peasants knew their place. To cover his tracks, he then paid a sailor he knows, 'in the biblical sense,' to press gang said apothecary onto a ship bound for destruction in the Anglo-Dutch wars of the 1670s.

A spokesman for Rees-Mogg denied he was a grown up version of the kid from the Omen adding: 'Monkey pox is a good old fashioned sounding illness isn't it? We want to see the return of diseases with names like Milkmaid's Knee, Bishop's Peculiar and Jenkins' Splurge. To be fair those could be real ales too.'

Dismissing the idea a US-style abortion ban could never happen here, the spokesman laughed: 'It definitely could. Have you ever heard the phrase "Northern Ireland" before? If you're English, probably not because of your natural cushion of ignorance and xenophobia, but it will blow your mind and maybe blow up your shopping centres.


'Anyway, many Tories agree with the American Colonies basically making abortion a criminal offence. After all, it's only right that a woman who was raped receives a longer jail sentence for not wanting to raise her rapist's baby than the rapist receives for doing the raping. That seems like the behaviour of a normal functioning society. In any case, a woman with learning is almost certainly a witch. Maybe we'll get that into the next Tory manifesto.'


First published 4 July 2022



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In order to arrest falling numbers, and ensure marching season in 2025 doesn't look like a group of friends on a summer stroll, the Orange Order yesterday held open auditions to find the next group of people who'll don the famous bowler hats and ensure the future of blocking traffic across Northern Ireland.


Outside the event, Gavin Campbell paces the floor nervously. He knows once he's inside, he's got 60-seconds to impress the judges and show his skills. "It's always been a dream to wear the orange sash," he told us as he collected himself for the audition. "I'm hoping my ability to keep a stony expression and my perfect timing get me through to the next phase. That's when we know if we'll just be in the crowd of marchers, or given a front-line job like holding a sign, or beating a drum."


Greg Bradley, head of the judges, says it's really tough to cut people from the process. "Ultimately, it's awful," he tells us. "We don't want to do it, but it's important we find the right kind of person to wear the uniform and march like our fathers and grandfathers did. We advertised that it's suitable for everyone, but we were secretly glad to see that the only people who turned up were good honest white protestant Ulstermen."


Back outside and Gavin is overjoyed to get through the tough first round. "They loved my marching," he said, "and my head staying forward, even when they threw a rock at me. I'm already preparing for the next round where we've got five minutes to sell ourselves, I've already sketched up a mural that'll blow their socks off!"


image from pixabay


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