Thread by @mikegove12

Goveller’s Travels

September 1st 1727

The author, by an extraordinary stratagem, prevents an invasion.

The continent of Blefuscu is parted from Lilliput by a channel of eight hundred yards. One day I walked to the coast, and lying beside a bus, spied with my perspective glass

an armada of ships laden with BMWs and wine. Intercourse between the two empires had ceased since the great Egg War and Lilliprexit, but my new intelligence revealed a terrifying enemy at anchor, preparing to trade freely with us the second our oven-ready Lillprexit went ping.

The high-water in the channel was seventy glumgluffs deep, or six feet, so I put off my donkey jacket and in my ‘Anthony Worral-Thompson was innocent’ jerkin, waded out with what haste I could. The frighted Blefuscudians instantly abandoned their ships, allowing me to

remove my soggy Air Max Jordans and fasten my laces to the prow of each, but the enemy retaliated with several thousand arrows, which besides the excessive smart, gave me much disturbance in my work, like when I’m trying to play Dungeons & Dragons with ‘Howling Mad’ Dom Cummings

and Sarah keeps asking if I’ve done the bins. My greatest apprehension was for mine eyes which I should have infallibly lost, had I not the expedient of the 3D spectacles I kept in my secret pocket. Thus armed, the arrows struck the glasses without any effect further than to

discompose them a little. The Blefuscudians were confounded with astonishment when they perceived me pulling the fleet away and set up a howl of despairing cries: ‘Why are you doing this? We are still willing to trade with you!’, to which I bellowed through mouthfuls of

nauseating brine ‘This is about more than millions of livelihoods. It’s about Jacob Rees-Mogg and Crispin Odey’s hedge-funds, it’s about the fascist tendencies of Nigel Farage, It’s about Andrew Bridgen’s IQ. And its about my career. So lets go WTO, leave means leave, no deal

is better than a bad deal and... ooh look, a Spitfire!’ as one flew overhead, again, for no reason. In Lilliput, because I was under water to my neck, my emperor was unable to discern me and thinking the enemy fleet was come to do it’s ghastly frictionless trade, he ordered

all his car plants demolished as a matter of urgency. But as the channel grew shallower, I came within sight and cried, “Long live the most puissant king of Lilliput: Dom Dom!” and wracked the fleet with my government issue whack-a-mole mallet.

Thus, I was received with all possible encomiums, and created a sycophant-nardac upon the spot, the highest honour in the land.

1727

With many thanks to @MrJunkerBarlow for sourcing this rare image.