Thread by @MarkFrancois12

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

July 11th 1665

Up and in the midst of the Junker Mail and Pizza GoGo menus on my ‘Come back with a warrant’ doormat, I find these Chronicles of Barnier, that Michel did reply to my Missive from a Free Country with

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words that defied sense, full of complexity, seriousness, dry humour and refusing to let us have our fish back. With a yearning look at my Sugar Puffs I with haste to my study to amend the original text of my missive into CAPITAL LETTERS and d o u b l e s p a c e d, as if

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discoursing with a Magaluf receptionist that my mini-bar needs re-victualling and the vomit cleaning off my balcony door; And that Brexity is the soul of wit, I stapled to the front of my missive, this statement, writ large on a Dambusters beer mat:

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SIR,

He that can fancy a fleet (like ours) in her pride, with guns roaring, spacing loose, caps flying, and the loud ‘Leave means Leave,’ echoed from one ship’s company to another, he, and he only, can apprehend the seriousness this note is despatched with,

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that I am Mark Francois, licensed to krill and I wasn’t trained to lose.

MNFP

All my letters done and sent by the boy Bridgen, I at last to my breakfast of Sugar Puffs made with Monster, knowing that while in France they are served pain for breakfast, after Liz Truss

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signs the trade deal for the Airfix Matt Hancocks with the governor of Vanuatu next week, these snooty Europeans will soon be eating economic pain for Brexit, lunch and dinner! The rest of the day arguing on Twitter and cataloguing Happy Meal toys. Bed.

With many thanks to @sophieplowden for unearthing this mint condition 17th century pamphlet!