A Nice Fat Scoop

The ever-glistening editor of the London Evening Osborne has continued his long career of public service by personally undertaking field research into Press ethics. The sometime restaurant-smasher, poor-basher and cripple-kicker was discovered unobtrusively basking in the fragrance exuded by such party colleagues and journalistic eminences as the Imperial Haystack, the jabbering homunculus Michael Gove and the Murdoch drone in charge of NHS demolition. Engineers from Thames Water are now doing their best to extricate the former chancellor from the consequences of his economic miracle, which numbered among its many blessings a near-total lack of interest in shoring up the country's infrastructure. Although the editor of the London Evening Osborne, being a congealed 130-tonne block of wet-wipes, nappies, fat and oil, fit in quite naturally with his new surroundings, the Museum of London has expressed an interest in putting "perhaps a chin or two" on display as a warning to future generations, provided that the sample can be pickled sufficiently well to disguise its objectionable odour while preserving its uniquely sebaceous texture. The lead curator of the museum expressed the hope that today's problems might be solved and forgotten in as little as fifty years, although even the most extreme predictions of rising sea levels have not been so optimistic as to claim that they will wash away the editor of the London Evening Osborne.