Thread by @MarkFrancois12

Extracts from the plague diary of Mark ne-Francois-Pepys

Wednesday 15th

Up, and after being trimmed, Monster and Sugar Puffs imbibed through strawberry Magic Sipper Straws, one in each hand that I am ambidextrose. Much billingsgate from Hartley-Brewer,

1/11

as bad as any oyster-wife, that having penetrated the little mouse hole behind the deep fat fryer, there be an infestation of Delingpoles in the kitchen and after much futile chasing with my Spiceworld annual, I called the exterminator.

2/11

To the garden and there gathering a queue of supplicants that I had forgot to cancel my monthly Patriotism Surgery. Much brabbling of the ill government, that it durst not set to heart the business of the Kingdom, but every body minding their particular profit or pleasures

3/11

and so we let things go to wracke, so I summoned Alderman Andrew Neil and his thief-catching sidekicks Dan Wooton and Dan Hodges, and had the petitioners arrested for being patriotic-vibe assassins.
There followed much heate between neighbours Galloway and Widdecombe,

4/11

that he too has a case of the ‘poles and a face like a beekeepers apprentice to testify, and is reproaching of the Lady W that she has set-aside her garden as part of the Brextoration Common Horticultural Policy and did offer that her open refuse heap is their source,

5/11

but Widdecombe did speake most in contempt of his grievance and threw Yazoo at him. Thornberry did then volunteer from her Ecopod that it be most good that the Delingpoles thrive, that ‘the Earth is healing, Corona is the cure, Humans are the disease’,

6/11

but with grayte alacrity a scuttling Delingpole ran across her feet and she did scream and batter it with her rolled up Grazia.
To dinner where, but for a scampering ‘pole across my potato waffles which I caught with my fork, a great deale of silly discourse

7/11

on Facetime with Lady Vine, a most excellent person she is, and must be allowed a little for a little conceitedness; but she may well be so, being a woman so much above others. She read me, though with too much gusto, some little poems of her own,

8/11

that were not transcendent, yet one or two very pretty epigrams; among others, of a lady looking in at a grate, and being pecked at by an eagle that was there.
Here comes in the middle of our discourse the exterminator Des Swayne, as drunk as a dogg,

9/11

but could stand, and talk and laugh, he did so joy himself in Fortnite Battle Royale with Steve Baker all the afternoon, but very troublesome he is with his noise and talke, and laughing,

10/11

but after much spraying of poison and terminations, showed a sack of rat sized Delingpole’s with faces like Michael Heseltine’s Alsatian, that they had the life strangled from them. Crunch Corner. Bed.

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