The House of Commons demanded that the snivelling toad either grow a pair or resign. Hiding under his desk, he denied he was scared, and that he was merely looking for a copy of the Magna Carta he had dropped there earlier.
Having had his spine surgically replaced with jelly, The Speaker stands (or wobbles) accused of undermining a Gaza ceasefire in exchange for not getting duffed up behind the bike sheds.
Abandoning his traditional position of neutrality for a place in Keir Starmer's anus, the Speaker had decided to throw caution (and his career) to the wind. But now that MPs were baying for his blood, he said he might just stay under this blanket for a little longer. Finally, he was unceremoniously dragged back to the chamber to apologise...for having wet himself.