The big news this
week was the invasion of UK soil by the French fishermen. They were angry about not being able to toss out a line and tease a fish with a worm, in our sacred waters. Boo Hoo.
Boris was whipped into action. He took two of his own tugboats from his bathtub and sent them full steam ahead to the isle of Guernsey, instructing them to keep a warlike social distance just in case the French fishermen fired a cod over their bows. The two tugs, Boaty McCan and Boaty McDoo arrived around dusk when the French had left the area and the Islanders were sat inside their homes having a supper of freshly caught French Cod.
'What happened?' I asked a stray islander.
'Ach, it was nothing. A French Storm in an Old Blighty tea cup.'
We both looked at the tugs bobbing in the water outside the harbour.
'The British navy still rules the seas, eh?'
'Aye, it does.' Another crisis averted by our bulky bothersome leader.