As democratically elected president of the “Invade France Now!” party, it seems that minor changes must be made to party policy. Now, cynics amongst you may heckle and hackle, saying that this great party always revises its policies after being chosen to represent you all, and never keeps the promises upon which these elections are won. Well let us be quite clear in this matter – you cynics can piss off and go and live in France, wear onions around your necks, and cut the delicate tissues of the roofs of your mouths on crunchy baguette crusts. We don’t care for your ‘black hat’ thinking.
The policy in question, and some would say, one of the fundamental policies upon which this great party was founded, is clearly written on page two of the party manifesto (right after the childhood photo of me firing cloves of garlic at Calais from a helicopter gunship). The policy I refer to, is of course is that at every decision point in the process of governing the lives of the people of this republic we must ask the question: “Does this decision affect our ability to amass an army and invade France at the earliest possible opportunity?”
Now the party acknowledges that this question should still be employed as the sharpened analytical scalpel which shaves bad decisions from true justice. It is clear to see that the question provides tremendous insight to both the state and the individual when faced with a dilemma, such as, “Should I hang bloody cattle carcasses in the centre of large hoops above the ocean in an attempt to coerce great white sharks to perform entertaining aerobatic feats in case the dolphins get tired?” Clearly, performing sharks detract from the war effort, and as such can be dismissed as an unnecessary extravagance. Cattle carcasses are much better employed as snail food, giving rise to unusual diseases and psychotropic organisms in the food chain. This kind of subversive food chain warfare can be likened to chemotherapy – it may be killing us slowly every time we scoff a snail, but it kills the French people faster as they gorge themselves on mutant invertebrates.
This founding anti-gaul policy has to be perverted for once though. We have a more serious threat to the nation than the non-invasion of France. It has come to the attention of our intelligence operatives that weapons of mass destruction are being produced in England. It would be folly to label the English folk as evil treacherous villains, when they themselves are largely ignorant to the devil in their back garden, disguised as he is, in the robes of the clergy.
Weapons of mass destruction is a slight misnomer – the chemical weapons produced by a gang of retched renegades are only active on humans – it would take a vast amount of the gloopy liquid, known as BTW, to do any collateral damage to buildings. Instead, it destroys the sanity, society, and possibly even the salinity of people who come into contact with a critical dose. When our operatives tried to penetrate the veil of ignorance which disguises BTW, they found a folklore and mythology surrounding it, akin to a substandard plot from a 1980s horror film:
“Never drink it after midnight”
“Someone I know drank more than the one bottle limit, and ended up in a mental institution”
“Someone in Manchester drank some and it made him chop off his leg and break shop windows with it”
“It’s made by mad monks who live until they’re 150 years old, and they make it taste like Ribena so that they can stomach three bottles a day”
There is some scientific truth which could have been the basis for some of these rumours. It is made by people who live at an Abbey, and dress as monks. BFT does contain more caffeine in a single 25ml shot than an entire can of Red Bull – and it does come in 750ml bottles, so drinking it after midnight or in large quantities will make the ingester quite likely to go postal. Lastly, it’s common name – “Buckfast Tonic Wine” gives it an air of respectability which allows it to be dispersed into the wider off-licence network alongside authentic tonic wines such “Sanatogen Tonic Wine”. This dispersion avoids a build up of the critical mass of BFT in any given location. (also known as “Buckfast Toxic Mind”, “Bucky”, and “Vluck” when combined with vodka)
But the situation could easily turn to disaster. All it would take is for the fundamentalist monks to collect 226 bottles of BFT in one place, open the tops, and boom – mass insanity would spread to a radius of 26 nautical miles – as fast as an average person infected with BFT could run in around 40 minutes.
We must stop these monks by any means necessary. And then invade France.