Tory manifesto balance between destroying business, NHS and planet

Senior Conservative planners say the party's manifesto for the next election is a delicate balance between destroying business with Brexit, destroying the NHS and polluting the planet to death.

'It's a real dilemma that we have to solve,' explained Alexander Grayling-Farquar-Farquar. 'If we destroy the NHS it can be sold to big business, but that's the same big business we're hoping to destroy with Brexit. Coupled with that, we've the balance between destroying the planet and short term electoral gain. Actually, when you put it like that, there's only one option.'

Conservative MP to be executed for forgetting to say ‘delivering’

The Conservative Party has confirmed the impending summary execution of one of its MPs.

‘We won’t be naming the offender until his widow and mistress have been informed’, a spokesman said, before adding ‘oh bollocks. Could you not print the bit about his mistress? It was supposed to be a secret’.

We understand that the offending MP completed an interview on daytime television without using the verb “deliver” or any of its forms. It is believed he hadn’t read his emails and was still repeating “stop the boats” as the answer to every question.

photo: https://pixabay.com/users/philippfalkenhagen-13595541/

www.newsbiscuit.com

Fears entire Conservative front bench suffering from lockjaw

Following the latest Prime Minister’s La-La-Can’t-Hear-You Time, fears have been expressed that the entire rictus-faced Conservative front bench are suffering from the archaic condition.

‘Tetanus symptoms include a grimly rigid expression and inability to articulate more than a weakly confirmatory “yaaargh”, even at the most rousingly rehearsed rejoinder from their embattled leader,’ confirmed a harassed GP. ‘After weeks of remaining unremittingly stony-faced in the laughable face of increasingly ridiculous party behaviour, its re-emergence across the blue benches felt inevitable. The slightest bit of dished dirt, mud on your face, or grubbing about in the mire can easily result in contracting twat-anus, to give this localised variant its correct name.

‘In extreme cases, as I believe we’re witnessing here, the conditions spreads upwards to a glassy-eyed stare, in which the more poetically inclined of us fancy we can read a desperate plea for the sweet release of death, or walk-towards-the-light visions of smoke-blowingly hagiographic Daily Mail “interviews”.’

Happier to publish their medical records than tax returns or fixed penalty notices, Tory Ministers have attempted to deny their expressions are current frozen more solidly wooden than the lacquered Cabinet table itself, with one clarifying: ‘Ert’s jssst a tmp- tmp- shrrt chnge ’n th winnnnd, yaaargh?’