Stuffed with Britishness

Among the brute British facts which can be changed neither by the pandemic nor by liberation from the Euro-wog yoke is the infallible calendrical status of late August as the start of the Christmas season. Naturally, this year's festivities have opened with clucks and screeches from Britain's plucky little poultry farmers, to the effect that they may be unable to supply enough turkeys. Now that the beastly Euro-wogs have fled, the industry is suffering chronic staff shortages, and raising wages to attract workers from the master race would go against the national religion. As a result, the British Poultry Council has requested the Ministry for Wog Control to let some of the beastly migrants back into the country; but no response has yet been forthcoming from either the henhouse thieves or the headless chickens, even though a billionaire has recently expressed concern.