HANSARD LATE

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Etihad House of Commons
Evening Proceedings Sponsored By Santander, Hon. Members Being
Entirely Dressed In Red And With A “Spanishy Look”
PRAYERS by Aviva
Mr. Speaker in the Tudor High Chair

Prime Minister’s Googled Questions

 

Mr. Jonty Demeanour (Toad-in-the-Wold): Would the Prime Minister list his engagements for today? And would he [consulted notes] join me in mocking those utter Labour gonks, assume some ghastly pun then just shut the fuck up and sit down again, oh I see, ignore that last bit.

Hon. Members: Wanker!

Mr. Speaker: Order, order. My lords and gentleladies, let the noble Gentleman speak! Prime Minister, pray continue I beseech thee.

The Prime Minister (Mr. David Cameron): Mr. Speaker, this morning I met with Cabinet colleagues and others. Some guy from the IMF? Shortarse, moustache, touch of the Mediterranean. Quick go on the double treadmill with my election strategist, apparently my muscle tone is “fucking awesome” [twerked uncertainly in the direction of the Opposition Benches.]

Hon. Members: Wanker! Fuckpod! Shitpump! Titfelch! Bum-doings! Cockfiddler! Sexcough! Arsephlegm! Cockhat! Resign! Kiss me!

Mr. Speaker: Order, fucking order! There will be rough detentions in the Tower if these tumults and heresies persist, by God! Cardinal Wolsey did not die in vain, I swear, bah!

[Mr. Speaker removed his Tudor cap, bowed, replaced his cap, indicated The Bailiff of the House with The Mace, the Sergeant-At-Arms, the coterie of Cudgellers with Quelches and Gumptions then suddenly assuming a sinister aspect, circumspect lute music emanating from the bowels of Tudor history on BBC2.]

The Prime Minister: …then a working breakfast. Had a cronut with some American healthcare guys. Two actually, they’re fucking delicious. Cronuts, amazeballs! [consulted notes] Mr. Speaker, the [indicated Leader of the Opposition and the hon. Member for Burly & Shitwad] hon. Gentleman opposite are both called “Ed”. Mr Speaker, the Labour Party is indeed a “two-Edded monster” oh WHAT IS THIS FUCKING SHIT GET SEAN ON THE FUCKING PHONE NOW.

Mr. Ed Balls (Burly & Shitwad): Mr. Speaker, is the Prime Minister off his glistening fucking spammy face again? With the greatest respect to the hon. Gentleman, the silly cunt made that two-Edded joke fucking AGES ago…

Mr. David Blunkett (Sheffield Pussywaggin): Mr. Speaker, as hon. Members will know, I am leaving Parliament in May to spend more time with my [caressed assistance animal] loved ones…

Mr. Blunkett’s Guide Dog (“Beyoncé”): whimpering, trembling, mild incontinence.

Mr. David Blunkett: May I take this opportunity to…

Hon. Members: Shit off, you beardy fucking cockpiece!

Mr. David Blunkett: How dare you, I’m registered blind! My God, what has happened to Britain? I will be deploring all this next week in the Sun, mark my words, you cunts! YOU like me though, don’t you Beyoncé? Don’t you girl? Mm? Oh, you like that…

“Beyoncé”: feigned orgasm, sleep.

The Prime Minister: [inaudible on mobile phone, possibly “…this fucking shit. I don’t care who his fucking dad is Sean, sack the bastard. Get a proper gag writer in. Who does Jimmy Carr’s stuff? No not that, I mean his jokes, you cunt. Got to go. Hello Kitty Kebabfuck’s on his feet. Yeah, ha ha. Ciao, bro.”]

Mr. Ed Balls (Burly & Shitwad): Mr. Speaker. [consulted notes] They say a week is a long time in politics…

Hon. Members: Wanker!

Mr. Speaker: Order!

Hon. Members: [presentation of genitalia, coarse hooting.]

Mr. Ed Balls: But where the Prime Minister’s concerned, Mr Speaker, “a long time in politics is weak”. No, I mean “HIS politics, in time…” No…fuck…

Mr. Dennis Skinner (Bolsover Oneside): Mr. Speaker, half them [indicated Government Benches] fookers have bought shares in the fooking NHS!

Hon. Members: Yes! I got cataracts! I got knee ops! I got statins! Fucking get IN!

Mr. Speaker: The hon. Member will retract that remark at once or face a severe cudgelling.

Mr. Dennis Skinner: OK, Mr. Speaker. Half them [indicated Government Benches] coonts want suffocating in their fooking sleep!

[Mr. Blunkett being asleep, his guide dog “Beyoncé” crossed to the Government Front Bench to lie in refuge at the feet of the Chancellor of the Exchequer.]

Ms. Olivia Vida-Loca (Buxton With A Hint Of Cranberry): Mr. Speaker, why are you all dressed up like bloody Thomas Cromwell in Wolf Hall, anyway? You don’t at all look like Mark Rylance. You look like some fucking nonce at one of those Westminster paedo parties we…

Hon. Members: [sharp intake of breath, slow outbreak of wind]

[Mr. Speaker then alighting from his High Chair in urgent dudgeon and fixing upon the House a gaze of deep admonishment.]

Mr. Speaker: The hon. Lady will withdraw that remark. No allusion to those…events may be made in this House until all implicated former Members are dead, when they will of course be pursued with the full force of the law…

The Chancellor of the Exchequer (Mr. George Osborne): Mr. Speaker, I like your little cap. You remind me of a fag I had. I used to make him dress up like a girl and then bum him and bum him until he puked…

“Beyoncé”: [muffled yelping.]

The Leader of the Opposition (Mr. Ed Miliband): Point of Order, Mr. Speaker. Brerk. That’s not a question. [attempted mime for “cocksucking”, hit himself in the mouth, twice.]

The Secretary of State for Work and Freedom (Mr. Iain Duncan Smith): Mr. Speaker, may I shh draw the attention of the House to the recent increase in homeless deaths and the spike in numbers of those who have shh [pedimented forehead] passed away in our residential homes and elsewhere? This House knows me to be a shh quiet and compassionate man, but a cold snap’s just the fucking ticket for reducing our monstrous welfare bill. [consulted tablet device] Oh dear.

Mr. Ed Miliband: Mr. Speaker, would the Prime Minister brerk care to respond to a question the brerk subject of which will become clear after several brerk paving clauses, the contents of that which then will assemble itself in retrospect to brerk form a persuasive account of the thinking brerk over here which will be tough on active verbs and the inference of brerk?

 

[Moment of Interruption]

 

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