I would just like to say to the house, dah-dah-dah, Mr ah Mr ah Mr ah Tiny Speaker, say to the house, Mr Tiny Speaker that, dah, the people dah, the people, Mr Tiny Speaker, dah, dah, dah, the people, Mr Tiny Speaker, of Cockinmouth owe me a very great debt of courage and heroism and bravery, the people of Cockinmouth owe me a very great and substantial debt for my courage in not going there yet and paddling around in my wellies, like, Mr Tiny Speaker, like, Mr Tiny Speaker, like, Mr Tiny Speaker, all the employees of skymadeupnewsandfilth and nearly everyone at the BB fucking C. And this is exactly why, Mr Tiny Speaker, we are in Cockinmouth in the first place, to ensure that the people of the
A pack of emergency measure will be put in place, Mr Tiny Speaker, to financially assist the people of Cockinmouth to vote Labour, only not as much financial assistance as if they were MPs, doing a very valuable job of work, Mr Tiny Speaker, and have to be able to accept bribes and fiddle the books as they go about the great task of making this land safe for the Taliban, I mean from the Taliban. And the bankers, of course.
Members will know, will know, will know, Mr Tiny Speaker that I am a son of the fucking Manse and so closer to God than most and especially the gentleman, the leader, Mr Tiny Speaker, of the party opposite, who is a useless, Godless, coke-snorting heathen bastard and has no fucking chance whatsoever of making the waters abateth themselves, much less of fooling the British people, Mr Tiny Speaker, the British people, the British people, Mr Tiny Speaker into thinking that we haven't just given their future earnings, in perpetuity, to the banks of the New World Order (prop., not, unfortunately, our old friends, Lord Tony and Mrs Imelda Blair)
And so to all those wet voters in Cockinmouth I say Hold on, I'm coming and when I come we shall part the waters, even as in days of old, verily, I say unto you, a prophet is without honour in his own land, Mr Tiny Speaker, and, indeed on the world stage, too...
(waving of order papers, shouts: Fuck off, Snotty)
....so let us all sing now, together, Psalm 137.
By the waters of Coniston, there we sat down, yea and we wept, when we remembered an election was due...