Waving to a handpicked crowd, with snipers aimed at them, the newly elected Prime Minister renewed her message of hope; hope that Brexit was a cheese-dream, hope that her husband still has his offshore account and hope that the ensuing zombie apocalypse stays north of the Watford Gap. A spokeswoman explained: 'Imagine the worst thing ever. Got it? Good. Now imagine it also involves Boris Johnson'.
UK voters braced themselves for another period of austerity fisting, this time without the benefits of a safe word, like Nick Clegg. This follows a collection of eye-catching polices; such as fracking NHS carparks, burning foxes for winter fuel and a year of unpaid leave for citizens wanting to fulfil their dream of being unemployed. Plus, a million more disabled people will get into work by being classified as their own carers. Mrs May then confidently kicked a black cat under the nearest ladder, summoned Cthulhu and opened the door to No.10 - the portal to No.2.
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