Three and a half years into this thing and I think you’ll agree, we’re beginning to see all that profit we need. And in fact I am proud to announce – thank you George – that the surplus this year will see us well rewarded for all of the difficult, painful decisions we’ve taken from our non-mandated position. Our mission is right on track; you’re in the black and though it wasn’t easy, we fixed the economy.
We have rescued our agenda and austerity is helpfully supporting our recovery – I told you fiscal discipline would save our pampered skin and constant repetition of the mess that Labour left – don’t you just love that word ‘inherit’..? So much merit in it, gentlemen.
(Cripes! Not that many women in the hall, at all..)
Well, anyway, what was I saying…
Oh.. we’ve turned hard working people into symbols of The British Dream. The beauty of it is, is that the moral duty, so integral to our bold regime, is built into our aspiration model as oppressive guilt. Yes, we are turning things around and so, to show you that I’ve listened to the hedge funds and back benches, I will regulate the foodbanks; cap the spending on the trenches. They will thank us in the end, make no mistake. We, happy band of brothers – are there any mothers here and did I say, the other day I met one..? Gosh! Small island, eh?
Well, anyway, we have a natural mandate; we’re the landlords, after all. It’s not the small this Party needs but corporate community that feeds our private wealth – this is our septic isle: our freehold in The Land of Opportunity.
We’ll fight this war on poverty from everywhere – no matter what the cost may be. And bless you, Iain, yes: of course we’ll fight it on the beaches, in the fields and in the streets. Their shameful and ungrateful feet won’t touch the ground with you around to champion lost causes. But we also have to get our claws in at a younger age, to set the stage, so thank you, Michael. Oh, and Boris: on your bicycle. My nepotism, sorry, my Compassionate Conservatism only goes so far you know, old boy. You clown! The only Baker in this town is me and I will not stand idly by.
No, gentlemen – (Theresa! Didn’t see you! Oh thank God! Compose and wait for camera, Dave..)
Though I may be a small island in the rough ocean of life, I have the history and the body and the heart of – (Look! My wife! That’s two. Take that Farage!)
I know we can outsmart that UPIK bastard but it’s hard to juggle what we are with what I had to say to get us here. However, if we exercise our blue-veined grip, the prodigals may yet return. It’s clear: we are the true Establishment round here. No, it is Labour we must really fear and so we’ll asset strip before the evil would-be socialists can stop us. With our brand of propaganda
– thank you, Daily Mail
and repetition: “Red Ed! Red Ed! Red!”
we’ll recycle every loony superstition. We will build – no, no, not houses! Please don’t panic: your gross income’s safe in our rent-loving hands – this is our ‘Land of Opportunity’ remember? We are better than them all.
Never surrender! We are Rich; we are Righteous. We are Right: it’s our island to inherit! We’re Conservatives, God Damn it!