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Yes, Thames Water is washed up and in deep water and, indeed, in deep doo-doo. All is not well. The company can’t tap investors for more money and all their funding has drained away. The company has liquidity problems and is likely to go down the drain and sink without trace. The current financial problems are weighing evian the Board, which is simply treading water. Past successes are water under the bridge and nothing can calm the waters. The well has run dry. Investors are likely to take a bath.


The company tested the waters on selling itself to an oil company, but oil and water don’t mix, despite the whole oil on troubled waters thing. The oil barons were unwilling to splash the cash and poured cold water on draining the swamp. The idea is now dead in the water.


The first rescue plan has been blown out of the water. The second rescue plan is ‘as weak as water’. The third rescue plan merely muddies the water. The fourth rescue plan is unimaginative – as dull as ditchwater. The fifth rescue plan fell between two stools. Actually, more than two. The sixth rescue plan threw the baby out with the bath water, and had to be watered down.


Politicians think the company is a right shower and have been quick to establish clear blue water between themselves and the crisis. Thames Water are intrigued at the idea that water could be both clear and blue, being more used to murky waters.





It's understood The Wombles have been placed on zero hours contracts and are no longer free to womble underground or overground. The news comes following Wimbledon's recent move to outsource its recycling and refuse collection arrangements.


Great Uncle Bulgaria told reporters: 'It's a bad do and no mistake. New bosses are obsessed with cost-cutting measures. They will only let us do a bare minimum that allows them to keep their licence but pay out huge dividends to shareholders.


'Now we just sit around the burrow waiting for the phone to ring, say maybe if cowboy builders fly-tip a load of rubble, old kitchen units or a knackered fridge-freezer on the common.


One high profile Womble who wished not to be identified commented: 'It's typical of these Tories. Flog everything off to their spiv pals in The City to make a killing. It's the workers and public left to pick up the pieces.


'The new pay scale they've switched us to isn't enough to make ends meet. Although, luckily with our set of skills we just about mange by scavenging in the bins out the back of Sainsbury's and Tesco.'






However hard the government bends over backwards to appease its core vote, a dyed in the wool true blue forever Conservative voter continues to be dissatisfied with the amount of pain being caused to those around him.


Gyles Tebbit from Surrey barked, 'This is just not good enough. I expect more. I expect more pain. I expect more suffering. I expect more wails of agony from those around me. This isn't what I didn't vote for.


'What this government needs to do is to get up off its lazy arse and get someone else to start sticking the knife in properly. I didn't not fight in World War II for this. Our Maggie had the country in absolute meltdown and all of us pummelled into submission in half the time. None of this u-turn nonsense you see today.


'I want every last foreigner kicked out. I want everyone coming over here taking our jobs and our women deported to Rwanda. And then I want every last one of our women back in their kitchens making babies. I want the kids of today rid of once and for all. I want everyone on strike sacked. I want everyone in work sacked. I want the unions crushed. I want the NHS dismantled. I want all those meddling greenies locked up. I want the poor taxed out of existence. I want the welfare state pulverised. I want the economy destroyed. I want full on hard red, white and blue Brexit done properly from the start. And bring back mandatory hanging for everyone.'


Now clear off. I'm a very busy and important man who needs to get into my German SUV, race to my local Italian, knock back a few French reds, call my Greek tax accountant from my Dutch mobile, and then fly to my second home in Spain.'



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