'Meanwhile members of Her Majesty's government reassemble. Slithering back into their familiar Commons benchmarks. Purring like hotel minibars. Here's a "soft question" for Labour to ponder. How did we fail to dislodge this sadistic bunch of bumbling incumbents? The talking haemorrhoid. The mafia dentist. The Devouring Moon. Spidergran. The shimmering fatberg. The little angry Lego man. Chalkie the Presbyterian ghost. "Bugsy Malign". The puckered gland. That one who looks like a giggling spring onion. The whole bastard Bash Street gang of them.'
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