But Can They Pick Fruit?

If there's one thing Her Majesty's Government simply cannot stand, it is the sight of a rubber-stamp parliament with an overwhelming majority of party functionaries nodding through authoritarian measures under the rubric of national security. The insidious Heathen Chinee have conceived a dastardly plot to restrict the democratic freedoms of people who, until relatively recently, enjoyed the privilege of being ruled by a colonial governor appointed by Her Madge Gawblesser. This presents something of a moral dilemma to the beady-eyed thug at the Ministry for Wogs, Frogs, Huns and Hit-and-Runs: in facing down the Heathen Chinee, he must extend rights to beastly migrants. True, these particular disease-spreading hordes are British passport holders, albeit not through any fault of the present administration: they are permitted to pollute the mainland with their presence for only six months, which Her Majesty's Government is now threatening to extend to a defcon-busting twelve. There seems, as yet, no reason to fear a first strike with rights of abode, which would undoubtedly precipitate a severe crisis of conscience at the Home Office. Indeed, it is difficult to think of anything more calculated to grate upon refined British sensibilities, except of course hypocrisy.