Pledge
Vital Youth Team
Friday's going to be amazing! i'm going to wake up in my Union Jack jim-jams to the sound of a squadron of Spitfires racing overhead and leaving a trail of hot buttered crumpets behind them
I'll run to the corner shop past all the British children who are laughing and squealing with excitement as they make a beautiful statue of the queen out of happy wriggling bulldog puppies - with two corgis for her eyebrows!
Bunting flutters everywhere and the man from the betting shop steps into the street - "guess what! England just won the World Cup & The Ashes & The Grand National and here's the best bit - Boris put a bet on it for everyone! you're all MILLIONAIRES!!!". He's on his way here with your winnings now.
The Red Arrows fly overhead dropping fish and chips as I walk into the corner shop, get my morning paper and go to the counter. "how much please?" I say to the Asian lad there. "1 pence, everything in the whole shop now costs just 1p!" he laughs, "leave it on the counter, i'm off back to Pakistan - we all are!"
And he's right! outside in the streets jolly old Nigel Farage is leading a huge crowd of happy foreigners - Turks, Poles, New Romantics, Syrians - there's even a few English people with heavy suntans mixed up in there! Nigel's playing Rule Britannia on a long pipe, rather like the pipe that takes the gas into your oven, and they're all following and smiling and talking foreign, bless them!
Just then Boris flies overhead in a Concord made of Bank of England gold - "don't worry!" he laughs "I've cut out all the bits the French made (and Anglicised the spelling)!" and with that he crashes into the ground at 1200 miles an hour, along with the economy, the country and all the dozy nostalgic foreigner-fearing fuckwits who fell for his bullshit.
Grow up! Wake up! Vote Remain!
I'll run to the corner shop past all the British children who are laughing and squealing with excitement as they make a beautiful statue of the queen out of happy wriggling bulldog puppies - with two corgis for her eyebrows!
Bunting flutters everywhere and the man from the betting shop steps into the street - "guess what! England just won the World Cup & The Ashes & The Grand National and here's the best bit - Boris put a bet on it for everyone! you're all MILLIONAIRES!!!". He's on his way here with your winnings now.
The Red Arrows fly overhead dropping fish and chips as I walk into the corner shop, get my morning paper and go to the counter. "how much please?" I say to the Asian lad there. "1 pence, everything in the whole shop now costs just 1p!" he laughs, "leave it on the counter, i'm off back to Pakistan - we all are!"
And he's right! outside in the streets jolly old Nigel Farage is leading a huge crowd of happy foreigners - Turks, Poles, New Romantics, Syrians - there's even a few English people with heavy suntans mixed up in there! Nigel's playing Rule Britannia on a long pipe, rather like the pipe that takes the gas into your oven, and they're all following and smiling and talking foreign, bless them!
Just then Boris flies overhead in a Concord made of Bank of England gold - "don't worry!" he laughs "I've cut out all the bits the French made (and Anglicised the spelling)!" and with that he crashes into the ground at 1200 miles an hour, along with the economy, the country and all the dozy nostalgic foreigner-fearing fuckwits who fell for his bullshit.
Grow up! Wake up! Vote Remain!
