Brexit Tears

Dear UK,

Why are you forsaking us? To turn your back once in a lifetime is hard, but twice?

It almost brings a tear to my eye when I think of your latest door slam in the face of your friendly neighbours. But I guess you know best. You always do. Superpowers that you are. Team GB and the Imperial intelligentsia, unafraid of what the others think. Great Farage and Rees-Mogg and Johnson who will go down in the annals for standing up for what you believe is right. Alt Right. Protect the Union chaps, protect the Crown! Save English jobs! Out with immigrants, especially those from lands you occupied. Pakistan, a country you manufactured, get the Pakistanis out! Then India. Oh but wait, they’re non-EU, but nonetheless Dear Lords, get them out anyway. Then the Poles. They are taking up your minimum wage jobs that ordinary decent Britons don’t want. Out damned Poles!

Your suggestion of a Hard Border is hard to take, bordering on the incredible. Do you want your men to man ugly stations across the length of the six counties once more? Do you want your men to taunt our men and push your weapons in our faces? Have you ever had an assault rifle shoved in the widow of a car at you at a Fermanagh border checkpoint while being a three year old girl? I suppose not. I can tell you it’s not as nice eating the Milky Bar I was having just minutes before we arrived at the crossing. Still though, I imagine that with your mindset, three year old girls pose a massive threat to the state of your Union. In fact, should you not just do away with all three year old girls? With all girls perhaps? More Great British ethnic cleansing for everyone in the audience. Jolly good chaps. Bravo.

Dear UK, you have lost the plot. How about just calling it Britain? You are etching away the ‘Great’.

Signed,

Milky Bar Girl