Farmed Out

Given the preponderance among British patriots of bleating sheep, silly cows, grunters, squealers and guzzlers at the trough, it should hardly come as a surprise that the great British farmyard has become less disposed towards trading with the beastly Euro-wogs. Nevertheless, certain woke and backsliding elements among the nation's agribusiness expendables have responded with less than total enthusiasm to their liberation from the Strasbrussels yoke. Rather than taking the path of entrepreneurial pragmatitude and making due preparation for the deregulated glories of hormones and chlorine, the breeders of élite animals destined for the metropolitan petting zoos of decadent Continentals have gone so far as to club together and pay for the red tape necessary to continue their treacherous trade. One farm manager even implied that Her Majesty's Government had some sort of responsibility towards commercial fifth columnists who barter and fraternise with the Euro-wog enemy, prompting a Government spokesbeing to proclaim that it was the foreigners' responsibility to take back control.