Prime Minister Boris Johnson escaped death once more this week, when an angry mob attempted to bludgeon him to death on the steps of Parliament. “They just descended on him and started to beat him with truncheons, bits of wood, crowbars, even golf clubs,” eyewitness Josie Oslo later told the The Daily Norks. “But, incredibly, none of it seemed to have any effect – most of their blows just bounced off of the fat bastards’s blubbery hide. I did see one of them get him around the back of the head with a bit of two by four, but even that didn’t seem to stop him.” According to other witnesses, the Tory leader, although initially beaten to the ground, was able to stagger to his feet and shrug off his assailants before making a dash for his official car. The identity of the attackers – none of whom has been apprehended by police – remains the subject of much media speculation. While some have theorised that they might have been grieving relatives of people who died of Covid, seeking retribution for the Prime Minister’s illegal partying during lockdown, others have speculated that the mob might have been composed of irate husbands cuckolded by Johnson. “That’s the problem – there are just so many people who are gunning for him these days. He might have won the 2019 election on a wave of popularity, but he’s subsequently been so incompetent, corrupt, dishonest and generally vile that even the most hardline right wing nutters are finding it difficult to make excuses for him,” muses Daily Norks Chief Parliamentary Reporter Eddie Denver, although the reported suspects that a clue as to the attackers’ true identities might lie in the reaction of the police to the assault. “There were several police officers in close proximity to the attack, yet none of them made a move to intervene. Not only that, but where were his official bodyguards? It as if someone on high had given orders for them to step back.”
Denver has also pointed to the fact that this wasn’t the first attempt on Johnson’s life in recent weeks. “Everybody saw him being booed and jeered by the crowd as he arrived at St Paul’s cathedral for the Queen’s Jubilee Service, but has been less well publicised is the fact that, after he entered the building, he was set upon by a group of unidentified assailants, some reportedly wielding swords,” he confides. “As if by some miracle, he survived that attack, but once again, the assailants escaped, despite a huge police presence at the event.” Significantly, Denver thinks, the Queen herself didn’t attend the event. “The official reason given was that she was feeling too tired after the previous day’s Jubilee events,” he says. “But I have it on good authority that she didn’t attend due to her detestation of Boris Johnson. Apparently, the day before, she specifically asked, ‘Is that horrible fat bastard going to be there?’, when the answer was a affirmative, she immediately pulled out.” This, though, wasn’t the first such outburst from Her Majesty on the subject of Johnson, with Denver claiming that Palace sources had told him that when Johnson was announced to the Queen for his first in person Prime Ministerial audience post-lockdown, she told a courtier, “Well, you can tell him to fack right orff”.
“According to my Palace sources, Johnson is viewed as an utter oaf and buffoon – he comes bowling into his audiences with Her Majesty completely unprepared and tries to bluff and bluster his way through them,” says Denver. “Worse still is his alleged general behaviour and lack of etiquette around the Queen, her staff and the Palace – many of the staff suspect that he turns up drunk, there are reports of him doing the ‘white eared elephant’ in front of ladies in waiting, for instance. He apparently thought it uproariously funny in a drunken public school boy sort of way, laughing so much that he threw up all over the Axminster carpet.” Other alleged misdemeanours have included being caught urinating in an elephant’s foot umbrella stand and leaving a huge unflushed stonker in the Queen’s personal toilet. “I mean, that’s the last thing Her Majesty wants to encounter when she goes into the bathroom, a steaming great jobby so huge that it sticks six inches out of the water – she was virtually face-to-face with the tip of the offending steamer,” he claims. “It was so rank that it stank out a whole wing of the Palace – even with all the windows open, it took over a week to get rid of the lingering stench.” Worst of all, Denver’s Palace sources claim, Johnson once broke wind, extremely loudly, during an audience with the Queen. “I mean, for god’s sake, everybody knows that etiquette dictates that the Queen always farts first and loudest,” sighs Denver. “The man’s a disgrace.”
In spite of her intense dislike of Johnson, Her Majesty was told that, according to established protocol, she had no choice but to receive the Prime Minister. “At which point, she uttered the fateful worlds: ‘Will no one rid me of this turbulent turd?’,” says Denver. “It’s clear that some of those present – senior advisers, military equerrys and the like – took her words literally and set out to assassinate Johnson, but in a way that wouldn’t directly implicate Her Majesty.” Nonetheless, Denver suspects that, although the fact that her call to action could be dismissed as a mere passing comment rather than an order, so as to give her plausible deniability in the event of Johnson actually being killed, the Queen has been involved in ensuring that the authorities have stepped back from directly protecting the Prime Minister from the attacks. “It is the only explanation for the lack of action on the part of police and security and their failure to arrest anyone,” he opines. Clearly, though, she wants the world to believe that this is another Becket situation, where some knights or other loyal servants ‘overhear’ a monarch’s apparent plea for action and act unilaterally.”
But how can Johnson’s continued survival in the face of these apparently relentless attacks be explained? “It simply be that he’s a lucky bastard,” speculates Denver. “Just look at all the scandals that should have killed his career stone dead, yet still he carries on – he’s been caught out lying, cheating, shagging, breaking the law, but none of it seems to stick! He has the luck of the devil!” An alternative explanation is that, leading the kind of life that he does, Johnson has somehow trained himself to endure even physical assaults virtually unscathed. “It’s the whole Rasputin syndrome – they poisoned him, stabbed him and shot him, but he didn’t die,” says the journalist. “Perhaps if there’s another of those Downing Street parties his survivability can be put to the test – poison his booze, the sherry trifle and the After Eights and see if he keels over or just throws up in the punch and lets rip a huge fart – if the latter was the case they could try and do the full Rasputin on him and try and drown him in the river, except that I wouldn’t want to see the Thames polluted again now that we’ve stopped dumping our shit in its waters.”
