Now, I’ve voted Labour all me life, jus’ like my old man did. I mean, its the party of the workin’ class, ain’t it? Can’t stand them Tory cunts, all posh an’ that. So, you can imagine my fucking ‘orror then, when this posh cunt turns up at my fuckin’ door, tellin’ me ‘e’s my Labour member of fuckin’ parliamnent. I mean, this cunt’s more middle-classed than the fuckin’ queen, the cunt. Know what I mean?
An’ ‘e’s all bangin’ on about them air-to-surface missiles the army got up on our roof for the ‘lympics an’ that, an’ ‘ow that makes us a target for terrorist attacks, an’ ‘ow that violates our ‘uman rights and shit. Now Mickey’s on the Wii an’ everyfin’, but ‘e knows that if ‘e ‘ears me screamin’ the word ‘cunt’ for more than a coupla minutes at some mother-fucker, then ‘is attendance is required. ‘e ‘splains to this little wank stain just ‘ow much ‘e loves ‘avin’ our brave boys on the roof, an’ ‘ow ‘e loves to take ‘is youngest up there to look at all them uniforms and guns and stuff, ‘ow proud ‘e feels. I keep me mouf shut about ‘ow we’ve been floggin’ them boys with the S-to-A crack and ice and acid and let Mickey just tell ‘im that no tree-huggin’, bi-fuckin-sexual like ‘im can ever represent the workin’ man. Know what I mean?
Any’ow this ‘omo Cambridge cunt comes out with all this “…but even if we did intercept a genuine terrorist threat, the plane those chaps shot down would still, nevertheless, crash into a residential area, killing hundreds, perhaps thousands of innocent people.”
“Yeah,” I point out, “poor people though, not dignitaries or celebrities, but people what don’t matter!” and while I’m wondering just what it is they teach these cunts at uni-fuckin-versity, i catch Mickey, out of the corner of me eye, searchin’ ‘is pockets for a blade. Now, I don’t wanna see some politician sliced up on me own doorway, that just ain’t democratic, if you know what I mean. So I send Mickey back to the console and deal with the situation meself.
I coulda been a good politician, I reckon. I only had to dangle that cunt over the balcony, by his ankles for 8.5 seconds before ‘e done what politicians call a U-turn. That’s faster than what Usain Bolt run the 100 metres. Know what I mean?