An extract from the proceedings of the Chiff and Fipple House of Commons. The disgraced former member for Neasden South stands to address the house.
Mr Speaker [The Hon. Veryrich Laugherty], Prime Minister [The Right Hon. Tony Dale-Wisely],
Bidding farewell to Chiff and Fipple is an emotional moment for me… (Please excuse me while I regain my composure.)[Retrieves handkerchief from pocket beneath ermine-trimmed cloak.]
Yes, an emotional moment, to take my leave of this, the mother of all Internet Tin Whistle Parliaments.
I am greatly honoured to have served this house and Her Majesty Queen Joanie. I have ever sought to uphold the democratic traditions of the house and now I must be bound by them and accept the banishment order served upon me by my colleagues on the benches opposite.
My friends in this house know me as a tireless crusader against pomposity and self-importance. It is ironic then that my interventions have been so misunderstood as to have me tarred with the same brush as my targets. (Sniff. Excuse me again.) [10 second pause.]
And so, I bid you farewell, so long, au revoir, arriverderci, auf Wiedersehen, arigato wasabi mas. No more Porridge, my friends. No more stirabout, no more brahan. Adieu, Gruel World!
Thank You and Goodbye.
Ahem. Before I actually leave this chamber I would like to answer a few of the poisoned barbs that have been directed my way by members of this house on the occasion of my showing some family snapshots.
The first barb was sent by StevieJ. A little more monkish restraint would be appropriate, “Brother” Steve. You it was that opened the floodgates of cricitism with your cheap gibe aimed at my “self-promotion”. Ha! L’habit fait le moine, as my dear friend Giscard d’Estaing used to say, and your habit, “reverend” sir, is full of holes.
Mr. Tom Badger was next. It was interesting to note how his three speeches to the house changed from bemused to surly. I shall come to the culprit anon.
The earnest pleas of Mr. Chris Laugh-In actually moved me. This is a fine young man with a bright future in tin whistle politics. My only advice for you, sir, is to pay attention to the “Laugh” in your name. You obviously have no sense of humour. However in this you are not alone among the members of this house: most of them wouldn’t recognize satire if a ton of it sat on them.
After Mr. L’s speech came several expressions of tolerance and lukewarm support. I don’t know if any of you actually understood my messages, but at least you supported my right to express them and for this you have my sincerest thanks from the depths of my integrity. (You all know how sincere I am and I let my integrity speak for itself.)
Then came the cruelest and most vindictive blow of all. The Hon. Ver Loren, a man I had considered as my friend, began spreading vicious rumours alluding to some kind of insidious pattern behind my actions in the house, and attributing devious motivation to me. Without, I might add, ever specifying what was about so “disturbing” in my work. After this, the tide turned against me and no supporter of tolerance and diversity dared open his or her right honourable gob.
Your party leader must be proud of you, Loren. I shall say no more other than that it makes me ashamed to think that my great-grandfather was born in your home state. And to remind the house of your ruthless and relentless campaigns against my friend the Hon. Nuke Power, member for Adare, and against one of this house’s most knowledgeable members, the Hon. Ciaran de Whale. Those in this house with longer memories will also know that you have even locked horns with the jewel of our parliament and C&F figurehead, the fragrant and irreproachable Miss Messy Kitten. Younger members, beware of this man.
I once attended a session in the parliament of New South Wales, Australia. During an uproarious debate a government front bencher referred to a member of the opposition as “my friend over there, the Right Honourable Bastard.” Strange people, the Australians, but they have a refreshing approach to the English language and parliamentary tradition.
Before I go, I would like to inform the house that I have received a number of private messages in response to the Porridge family photos affair. One, the obscene language of which I will spare you, Mr. Speaker, was vituperative in the extreme. The house will remember the response to a similar vicious and unprincipled attack on the former Chancellor of the Exchequer, Denis Healey. He said “I feel like I have just been savaged by a dead sheep.” Well, friends so do I. In this case however it was a dead Deadwood sheep.
However, two private messages came from very senior members of this house whose reputation I shall not compromise by revealing their identity. Suffice it to say that they, at least, fully understood and appreciated my efforts, even congratulating me on them. In the long years of my exile, their appreciation will more than outweigh all the cruel words I have heard from the rest of you.
[Sobbing…] God be with you, Mr Speaker, Mr Prime Minister, honourable members.
[To mixed applause and jeers, the disgraced former member for Neasden South is escorted wailing and sniffling from the chamber.]
