Dizzy Lizzie - the Budget
By Terrence Oblong
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After losing a drinking game with her posh friends, Dizzy Lizzie has to pay the forfeit of becoming PM of a nation in rapid decline, at the time of multiple crises.
Lizze found herself at Number 10 Downing Street, with her new Spad, Sir Jeffrey Buckland, waiting for her with a handful of official papers.
"Good morning Prime Minister."
"Prime Minister?" said Lizzie, still feeling a bit dizzy.
"You lost the drinking game, remember."
"Gosh, so does that mean I have control of the UK budget?”
“Yes, Prime Minister. You appoint a Chancellor of Exchequer who publishes an annual budget statement that outlines proposals for taxation and expenditure for the coming year. This is then voted for in parliament and implemented over the coming year by the civil service.”
“That all sounds a bit slow. Can I just write myself a cheque.”
“Personal expenditure would not be allowable. You are still able to access your parliamentary expenses.”
“Oh I use all of that. This Norwich City away kit I’m wearing, all paid for by the taxpayer.”
“You were Foreign Secretary, why did you need a Norwich City away kit.”
“Because I ‘went away’ on Foreign Office business – I could hardly wear the home kit for that. Now, instead of writing myself a cheque, which I clearly wouldn’t do as it wouldn’t be an appropriate use of government funds, what if I appoint my bestie friend as Chancellor and announce massive tax cuts for the highest earners, such as myself and my friends.”
“How would you pay for that, Prime Minister?”
“Oh, just put it on the card. The next government can pick up the hit. I’m not planning to be PM long, just enough time to fill my pockets.”
“I have a statement from the OBR about any plans for unfunded tax cuts– they warn that borrowing on that level with no plans for paying off the debt will cause a run on the pound.”
“Can you make sure nobody sees that report.”
“I’m afraid that you have to publish an OBR statement alongside a budget. It’s written in the law.”
“I see. Suppose I didn’t hold a budget. What if we held a ‘Not a Budget, Honestly’.”
“Erm, that would be a tad eccentric, but it isn’t against the law. You would still need to get the Treasury to check the finances and publish the details in a budget statement.”
“The Treasury? I thought you said it was my Chancellor who published the budget.”
“Well it’s not just one man winging it with the entire national budget. Every proposed change tax and expenditure is carefully checked by an experienced team of treasury officials.”
“I see. And who employs these.”
“The government.”
“I see. So I could just sack the officials, call the budget something else and basically do whatever I like.”
“That would be extremely reckless PM. It’s liable to cause a run on the pound”
“ And if ‘close friends’ of mine were to bet on a collapse in the pound then that would be a sure-fire way of making money.”
“That would be illegal Prime Minister.”
“I know, but we’ve done it dozens of times, the police don’t do anything, we employ them as well.”
“It would be political suicide as well. Nobody would vote Tory ever again if you trashed the economy like that.”
“Oh, we just need a nice war to distract people. We still have those nukes don’t we.”
“We do, PM, but any escalation of the Russia-Ukraine conflict would …”
"Oh I’m not going to nuke Russia. Half our Party funding comes from Russia. No, I thought I might drop a few nukes on France. You know, teach Macron a lesson.”
“But France is one of our closes allies.”
“Oh good, that means they won’t fight back. Let’s nuke Paris. That’s in France isn’t it?”
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Comments
It's almost too grim for
It's almost too grim for humour isn't it?
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Brilliant :0) Did you know
Brilliant :0) Did you know about 55 Tufton Street? There is a documentary on radio 4, which explains things a bit
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I like it, Terry!
I like it, Terry!
A bit like my update of the Who's immortal ditty (Boris the Spider)
Look whats crawling on the floor
Dull and desprate wanting more
Boris Johnson - the dipso diplomat
hanging on to % PMT job by whiska of the cat
'creepy, crawly creepy crawly crawly going up the wall, the wally wall
Boris the dipso Prime Minister
ee screech aagh!!
Then this meek man doth inherit
He finds in his Carzy Cabinet -- Surgical Spirit!
Downs the lot with picked up feet
Now he goes off to 10 Downing Street
and after a Cabinet |Meeting
and some premier cru Cabernet
ordered by Uber posh privilege card he is raring to go to make his Peppa Pig speech in Prime Ministers question time
BTW he dropped into premier store for a hasty taxi drop of voddy* to doctor up the Cabernet.
But that is so 'vieux chapeau', like last year's thing ole pal
And here we are again!!
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% means in my piece here 'the unbearable tension of running the country'
*market placement of product
We do sometimes sing on the same page!!
xxRay
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its the drugs, dosh and dodgy sex!!
It's the narcotics that do it when making the double octopus down theline pole bar aweright!!
xxRay
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