Boris Johnson Explains Why Scotland Should Not Leave The United Kingdom
A transcript of his recent address to the nation
Right-oh, just time to ruffle my hair for that famous Boris look. Now let’s see, um, er, is this where I put my clown face on and mug for the cameras? Oh, no, wait! I’m Prime Minister now! Silly me. Time for me to put my constipated face on, where I look absolutely just like Winston Churchill. Serious. A Man of Destiny. A man who knows what he’s doing.
Where did I put my phone? Oh, never mind. Dommy Cummings can always get me a new one. I mean, everyone always loses everything they’re given, don’t they? That’s what makes me such a good Man of the People. That’s why they love me, all those little people out there with empty heads we can cram full of the most appalling nonsense.
Now let me see, are the microphones on yet? No? Thank goodness for that! Although, let’s be honest, the empty-heads are so atrociously stupid they wouldn’t even realize I was talking about them! That’s such a jolly joke, isn’t it? Reminds me of Oxford, when I’d wake up covered in my own vomit and I’d try to convince my scout it was really a special face cream to keep me looking young. Oh, what laughs back then!
I greatly appreciate stupid ignorant people, honestly I do. Look at the benefits: I’ve been telling the most appalling lies my entire life and now I’m Prime Minister! I lied about absolutely everything regarding Brexit and then all my lies were revealed and it was obvious that Brexit was going to be the most atrocious and entirely unnecessary disaster in British history and then, despite it all… all the stupid ignorant bigoted racist people voted for me! I got an overwhelming majority in Parliament! If that doesn’t show how wonderful it is to have a nation of utter morons at one’s back, I honestly don’t know what would.
This microphone really isn’t on, is it? I mean, I may say something unkind about Groveling Grove or Pathetic Patel and then I’d have to watch their squalid little faces during Cabinet meetings as they try not to burst into tears and wet their briefs. Their briefing papers, I mean. But probably both, actually.
Five seconds? Right-oh, game face on, Serious Boris talking about serious things. Very seriously, I still can’t believe I’m Prime Minister. I love practical jokes and all that, but really…
Okey-dokey, here goes!
Good evening. I’m speaking to you from number ten Downing Street, about rumors of Scottish independence. While it is perfectly all right for me to take the United Kingdom out of an alliance that has lasted nearly fifty years and has provided peace, prosperity, and hope to hundreds of millions of people, it is not at all acceptable for the people of Scotland to take themselves out of an alliance that has seen them asset-stripped and placed in the position of second-class citizens relative to their far superior English neighbors.
Oh, oopsies, we can cut that part out, yes? I should have said English friends.
Just because we took fifty years of North Sea Oil revenues and spent it on Conservative-engineered tax breaks for English corporations and wealthy English people does not, absolutely not, entitle Scottish people to be resentful. Nor does the fact we make rules for them here in England. Like a more worldly and experienced older brother, we simply know what is best for you little people up north. Scottish people should be grateful that we even remember you exist.
I mean, aside from the Edinburgh Festival when good chaps and chapettes from Oxford and Cambridge go up to perform at the Fringe, what’s the point of Scotland anyway?
But I digress.
Leaving the European Union will make us all stronger. Millions of jobs destroyed, the economy plunged into the deepest and longest-lasting recession since the Great Depression, and social divisions created by me telling endless lies to very stupid people will all combine to make us a great nation once again. Let’s face it: we were complacent before I thought Brexit would be a jolly good laugh and a way for me to become the Healing Prime Minister after people voted against it. We were enjoying peace and prosperity and job opportunities undreamed of forty years ago and frankly it was making us soft. People would graduate from university and school and get jobs and things were easy. There was food in the shops and homes to live in.
Now, thanks to the genius of Brexit, things will be different.
Now, we’ll face adversity together. The Spirit of the Blitz. Just because we’re the ones dropping bombs on our own cities doesn’t make it any less brilliant. We’ll rally together in the face of adversity. And I’ll get to be Prime Minister for as long as I like!
Oh, um, where was I? Oh yes, Scotland. It’s up north somewhere, isn’t it?
Oh! Microphone is on! Oopsies again!
So, people of Britain, people of Scotland, it is wrong, very wrong indeed, of you to want to break away from our magnificent Union. This would make me, personally, look like a complete failure. And that would be unfair, because I’ve only failed at everything I’ve ever attempted so far and I have a lot more to fail at before I die. If Scottish independence made me look a complete failure next year, what would I have left to live for?
So, little people of Scotland, look deep into your tartan hearts and think about the most important thing of all: me.
Think about the absolutely appalling harm you would inflict on me if you left the Union, rejoined the EU, received billions of Euros in structural adjustment funds, and became prosperous and happy just as we in England are sinking into a mire of our own making! Think how deeply unfair that would be! Here I am, prepared to sacrifice two generations of young people just so I can prance around and pretend to be important and you want to break away simply to preserve jobs and peace and social harmony and a high quality of life.
It’s utterly appalling how selfish and short-sighted you are!
It’s no good complaining that we spent all your North Sea oil revenues instead of putting them into a sovereign wealth fund like Norway. The money’s all gone because we spent it on proper things in England. I mean, really, how many haggises could you have bought even if we’d left you some of the cash?
Good joke, eh?
But we’re all green now, because that’s what Dommy says will get me votes if I say it. So we need your blustery coast lines and crashing waves for wind farms and harvesting the power of the ocean so we can keep good English lights on and English factories running long after we’re so indebted that we can’t afford to import anything at all.
It’s very, very selfish of you to think about taking free electricity away from millions of hard-slouching English people. I mean, it’s not as if we can put those eyesores up around the English coastline, is it? Be reasonable.
And here’s my clincher, my argument that withstands no rebuttal: the Welsh.
Remember, the Welsh voted for Brexit. They did so despite the fact their economy will collapse and all their small farms will go bankrupt without EU funds. They did so knowing that we, the superior English, were lying to their faces about absolutely everything. The Welsh did what little unimportant people should always do: they obeyed their superiors.
And that’s what you need to do, people of Scottish-land. You need to do what I tell you because I’m Boris. I’m Prime Minister. I have a special car that comes with its own driver so I can get as plastered as I want and still come home in comfort. I can go on television and people have to pretend I’m a serious person even though, just between you and me, I’m more than a bit of a joke, albeit a bad joke that’s not at all funny when you stop to think about it.
But stopping to think about things is very un-British. If people had selfishly stopped to think about things over the last four years, we wouldn’t have Brexit.
And I can think of no stronger argument than that.
So stop being so silly and selfish, tiny obscure Scotlandy people, and listen to your English masters. There will be no, and I do mean no, though perhaps tomorrow I might mean maybe or perhaps, Scottish independence. I will stamp up and down and hold my breath until my face turns red if you even think about trying it. That’s how serious I am about all of this.
Now go back to your shacks or hovels or whatever you call them and stop being such spoil-sports. I’ve a jolly good pudding I want to eat, and there’s a secretary here at Number Ten I haven’t shagged yet. Time for Boris the Magnificent to score yet another superb ten-second triumph.
Goodnight.
Whew, I think that went rather well, didn’t it? Perhaps I should have talked about the blitz a bit more and us all coming together and so forth, but I rather want to come together with that secretary I just mentioned. What’s her name again?
Oopsies! Microphone’s still on! Oh well, the lovely thing about ruling a nation of morons is that they’re such empty-heads I can say absolutely anything I want and they’ll still vote for me!
That is absolutely the very best joke of all.
