'I know where we live is only a desolate patch of bogland somewhere to the south of Aylesbury," said a spokesman for the residents of the Chiltern Hundreds, 'but we were happy here.
'That's until Parliament started trucking in a series of freaks and misfits to be our 'Steward and Bailiff'. Apparently, that's the law. If you want out of the Commons, you have to come and run this place. 'The first steward creature was a blond-haired, scruffy kind of orangutang which lurched around the place brandishing a champagne bottle and touching people for money.' "Come on, chaps!" it'd say. "Help out an old Tory toff when he's on his uppers! Some of us have wallpaper bills to pay!" 'But he was a pussy cat compared to our current Steward and Bailiff. 'She's spent the past week staggering through the village lanes swigging Jägerbombs, spray-painting walls with graffiti saying "Rishi is a bummer", flicking V-signs at passers-by and screaming 'I should be a bleeding Lady!' at the top of her lungs. 'And I've had a tip-off that the next degenerate to be foisted on us is Matt Hancock. 'I swear that if he sets foot here, we'll string him up. It's the only language these political deadbeats understand.'