Thread by @MarkFrancois12

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

June 4th 1665

Up betimes and over Sugar Puffs made with Monster we hear business secretary Alok Sharma carries the corona plague, and I am fearful that ere now we have been sharing of skittles and my gammon vape.

1/8

To the Ministry of Patriotism regarding the syphoning of public monies into Chingford Toby Carvery and thence to chair the Service Station Expert Oversight Committee on the need to fix the Deal or No Deal fruit machine pay-outs at Thurrock Roadchef but unwilling to stay long

2/

that though very civil to me, cunning and close I see these experts are. So to Westminster Hall, reminded that Alabaster Capitalist Rees-Mogg’s bizarre-b-queues are more pretence than common-sense, and find we are upon the Corona business, and our Ruler in the Cooler Johnson

3/

plainly inveighed against by the Mule Farmer Starmer, that he is fain to take any action beyond safety of his own skin; and the prejudice of those deeming forgery of tests and delaying of lockdowns a grave matter not best suited to a philanderer in charge for want of a hobby

4/

sees the Johnson lose his shit, that anyone dare question his Divine Right of Flings. The exchanges between our benches rise to such heat that Des Swayne's skidmata is returned, and that ours is the defunded surestart of democracy, we demand they take it outside for a

5/

straightener and so to Hide Park by coach to see a foot-race three times round between them, but the Park is thronged with those discoursing that black lives matter, and whilst few of us opposed the mobs at Durdle Door, Southend Beach or the Commons Canteen, many of us
are

6/

now compelled to speak up. By and by our phallusman remembers he left his PPE kit in Death Knell Gwynne’s bedchamber and this sees Raab that was once his footman, run in lieu in a lycra unisuit and he wins the argument by 17.2 seconds and there is much thumping of chest and

7/

screaming ‘I NEVER LOSE’ in the donkey orderly's face and punching of Cummings for being a dork and we all Yee Haw while Starmer’s men Hee Haw and Nigel Farage Haw Haws. Thence home, remembering I have not yet walked the dog I had of Redwood’s puppy farm last month. Twix, bed.