brexiteers have got nowhere to go now so they are just dumbing down on their answers.
I guess Filly doesn't realise if the the WA could be cancelled, that effectively means no brexit.
the 'no deal' being discussed now is not the same as the no deal being discussed before Oct 2019
Anyway, I bet the government are just throwing out the "making changes to the WA" as a dead cat.
They did the same last year when claiming Johnson would ignore the legal requirement to ask for an extension, its the same childish game.....lapped up by the same people
This is a scorcher.
https://threadreaderapp.com/thread/1302658218108354561.html
Boris Johnson dies...
His soul arrives in heaven and he is met by St.Peter at the Pearly Gates. Welcome to Heaven," says St. Peter. "Before you settle in, it seems there's a problem: We seldom see a Conservative here and we're not sure what to do with you."
"No problem, just let me in; I'm a believer," says Johnson.
“I'd like to just let you in, but I have orders from the Man Himself: He says you have to spend one day in Hell and one day in Heaven. Then you must choose where you'll live for eternity."
"But, I've already made up my mind; I want to be in Heaven."
"I'm sorry, but we have our rules."
And with that, St. Peter escorts him to an elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell.
The doors open and he finds himself in the middle of a lush country house garden. Standing in front of it his dad...and thousands of other Conservatives who had helped him out over the years.......
The whole of the "Right" was there. .
Everyone laughing...happy...casually but expensively dressed.
They run to greet him, hug him, and reminisce about the good times they had getting rich at the expense of the "suckers and plebs". They play a friendly game of croquet and then dine on lobster and caviar.
The Devil himself comes up to Johnson with a frosty drink, "Have a Marguerita and relax, Boris!"
"Uh, I can't drink any more, I’m watching my weight," says Johnson, dejectedly.
"This is Hell, Boris: you can drink and eat all you want and not worry, and it just gets better from there!"
Johnson takes the drink and finds himself liking the Devil, who he thinks is a really very friendly guy
who tells funny jokes and pulls hilarious nasty pranks. kind of like an Oxford undergrad.
They are having such a great time that, before he realizes it, it's time to go. Everyone gives him a big hug and waves as Johnson steps on the elevator and heads upward.
When the elevator door reopens, he is in Heaven again and St. Peter is waiting for him. "Now it's time to visit Heaven," the old man says, opening the gate.
So for 24 hours, Johnson is made to chill with a bunch of honest,
good-natured people who enjoy each other's company, talk about things other than money and treat each other decently.
Not a nasty prank or mean joke among them; no fancy country seats and, while the food tastes great, it's not caviar or lobster. And these people are all poor, he doesn't see anybody he knows, and he isn't even treated like someone special!
Worst of all, to Johnson, Jesus turns out to be some kind of hippie with his endless 'peace' and 'do unto others' stuff.
"Whoa," he says uncomfortably to himself, "Margaret never prepared me for this!"
The day is done, St. Peter returns and says, "Well, then, you've spent a day in Hell and a day in Heaven. Now choose where you want to live for eternity."
With the 'Jeopardy' theme playing softly in the background, Johnson reflects for a minute, then answers:
"Well, I would never have thought I'd say this - I mean, Heaven has been delightful and all - but I really think I belong in Hell with my friends."
So Saint Peter escorts him to the elevator and he goes down, down, down, all the way to Hell.
The doors of the elevator open and he is in the middle of barren scorched earth called Brexit Britain covered with garbage and toxic industrial waste...
He is horrified to see all of his friends, dressed in rags and chained together, picking up the trash and putting it in black bags. They are groaning and moaning in pain, faces and hands black with grime.
The Devil comes over to Johnson and puts an arm around his shoulder.
"I don't understand," stammers a shocked Johnson, "Yesterday I was here and there was a country house and we ate lobster and
caviar....drank cocktails.
We lounged around and had a great time. Now there's just a wasteland full of garbage and everybody looks miserable!"
The Devil looks at him smiles slyly, and purrs, "Yesterday we were campaigning; today you voted for us"
