Boris Johnson has been visited by the Ghost of Christmas Future and is now suffering nightmares over what Brexit will do to Britain by 2025. He’s been heard screaming and wailing and grinding his teeth as he tries to escape from the horrors he’s created.
It’s understood the gruesome apparition crashed into Johnson’s bedroom on board a double decker London bus adorned with broken promises about money for the NHS.
The terrified Johnson hardly had time to insult a foreigner before he was forced to look into the future to see the hardship caused by his lies during Brexit referendum campaign.
He watched in horror as the ghost showed him the Christmas being endured in 2025 by Bob Cratchit and his traditional, honest, hardworking British family – idealised by Theresa May as ‘just about managing’.
Like millions of other families, the Cratchits are feeling the effects of the historic referendum vote to leave the EU. Bob lost his job when his employer Ebenezer Scrooge moved his counting house business to Germany.
Cratchit has been out of work for six years but remains cheerful, although he is considering uprooting his family and emigrating to Poland or Romania which are now booming thanks to EU membership.
Mrs Cratchit, however, is feeling bitter. “If that lying scoundrel wretch Boris Johnson hadn’t persuaded us all to vote leave we wouldn’t be is this mess Bob Cratchit, and no mistake.
“Oh now good wife, let us not be hasty. Mr Johnson is a fine, stout fellow and he means well. As soon as he and Mrs May come up with a Brexit plan everything will be fine again.
“Remember, despite leaving the EU, we’re still the 45th biggest economy in the world and Europe is desperate to sell us BMWs and Prosecco so everything is going to be bloomin’ marvellous just like Mr Johnson said. Let us eat, drink our Prosecco and be merry this festive season.”
“Drink? We can’t afford Prosecco and that pigeon you caught in the garden won’t go far. And how can I be merry when my lovely Tiny Tim is desperately in need of an operation to cure his leg but we can’t afford it because the NHS has been privatised to get a trade deal with America.
“Oh what will become of him?”
“Fear not gentle mother,” said Tiny Tim, innate British goodness beaming out of every pore of his body. I can do without a silly operation. I know I have a bad leg but my other leg is truly wondrous and I can get by. I don’t blame Mr Johnson. After all, my health is a trivial matter compared to what Mr Johnson has to endure with his inflated ego and inability to form a sentence with a beginning, middle and end.”
After the trials of Christmas, the ghost then took Johnson forward to bonfire night which showed angry demonstrators ripping Guy Fawkes from the flames.
“Why have they rescued that traitor Guy Fawkes? Who are they putting in his place?”
The apparition lurched forward with an eerie grin, “why that’s you Boris, that’s what will happen to you when people realise how you’ve deceived them”.
It’s understood that Johnson then awoke, screaming in terror and crying for Theresa to come and comfort him. His family had to soothe him by showing him pictures of old world London such as red telephone boxes and bobbies on bicycles, and by reading him stories by Enid Blyton.
Despite his ordeal, Johnson was putting on a brave face when meeting the press later that day. Reporters noted that he seemed confused as to where he was, mumbled endlessly, was unable to retain his train of thought or complete a sentence… so he’s pretty much just as normal, they said.
When asked about the rumours of his nightmare Johnson said: “Well, look… sleep is jolly important… nightmares are not good. What’s important is that we get the right sort of sleep for Britain. I’ve always thought that and said so last year… the important thing is that we… it really is crucial… what you have to remember… sorry, what am I supposed to be talking about? What was the question? Ah yes, Brexit. Well, Brexit means Brexit. We have a plan and when we’ve worked out… and this is very important… I said this last year… we must realise. Sorry what am I talking about? Ah yes…