May 22nd 2017
“Nothing has changed. Nothing has changed,” the Supreme Leader snarled, her eyes narrowing into a death stare, her face contorted and her arms spread wide, twitching manically. “Nothing has changed.”
Everyone at the launch of the Conservative party’s Welsh manifesto launch in Wrexham saw it rather differently. They had distinctly heard her say she would be reversing the Conservative party policy on social care that she had introduced in her English manifesto launch in Halifax the previous Thursday. Making it one of the quickest manifesto U-turns in history.
“Nothing has changed,” the Supreme Leader again insisted, looking increasingly deranged and unstable. Everyone had completely misunderstood her. The manifesto she had written hadn’t been the one that was published. When she had said she was going to make everyone pay all but their last £100,000 on their own care, what she had clearly meant was that she was going to cap the amount they would spend on care. And no, she wasn’t going to say at what level the cap would be set because the fake news media would be bound to misrepresent her again and besides her manifesto was completely costed apart from the bits that weren’t.
By now the Maybot was shaking so badly that one of her arms fell off. Roadie Nick Timothy rushed on stage with a screwdriver to reattach it. “Nothing has changed. Nothing has changed.” Except that, in the general confusion, her arm had been put on back to front and was now gesturing obscenely to a sign saying “Strong and Stable, Forward Togetheræ on the wall behind her.
Were there any other bits of her weak and wobbly manifesto she would like to rip up while she was here, someone asked helpfully. It would be so much easier to get the changes in before the ink had completely dried. “Nothing has changed. Nothing has changed.” The voice was now tinged with panic as well as anger. She hadn’t made a U-turn because she was a strong and stable leader. And even if she had, it would have been a strong and stable U-turn. Not that it was.
“Nothing has changed, Nothing has changed.” Why were so many people calling it a dementia tax? Just because it was a tax that targeted people with dementia didn’t make it a dementia tax. That was just more fake news. As was the idea that cabinet patsies Damian Green and Boris Johnson had been sacrificed to the Sunday politics shows in a futile effort to defend it. They hadn’t really been there at all. They were just holograms created by the fake news media.
“Nothing has changed, Nothing has changed,” she repeated, until sound recordist Fiona Hill put her out of her misery by unplugging her. And nothing had changed. Changing her mind was the Supreme Leader’s trademark. She had done it over Brexit. She had done it over the budget. And she had done it by calling the general election. It was her very inconsistency and indecision that proved she was a strong and stable leader.
Nothing had changed when the Supreme Leader came up against the BBC’s Grand Inquisitor, Andrew Neil, later in the evening. Why was everything going so badly,he asked. Kim Jong-May had a ready response. It was because she was going out to the country and talking to them. And telling them something different every time.
“Your policies are uncosted and half-baked,” said Neil. The Supreme Leader didn’t deny it. No point really. “You’ve just done a U-turn on social care.”
“Nothing has changed. Strong and stable,” The Maybot replied trying desperately to count down the clock. A look of resignation crossed Neil’s face. He stifled a half yawn before suggesting that this must be the first time a manifesto promise had been broken before a government was elected and that Jeremy Corbyn now appeared to be rewriting Conservative policy.
The Supreme Leader’s mouth opened and shut but no words came out. She wasn’t used to being spoken to so bluntly. Eventually she came up with an explanation. The manifesto had never been intended to be seen as a policy document. Rather it was just a set of vague principles. Random words that just happened to have been strung into sentences. The idea that anyone was ever meant to take it seriously was “Fake Claims”.
Neil moved on to the NHS. Where was she going to find the extra £8bn for the NHS? At this point, the Maybot was taken over by malware. She shrugged. Down the back of the sofa? And what about the £10bn for NHS infrastructure? Down the back of another sofa?
“You’ve broken your promises on reducing the deficit and immigration,” Neil concluded. “Why on earth should anyone believe a word you say?”
“This election is all about trust,” KimJong-May replied in one of the greatest acts of self-harm seen on TV. “That’s why I’ve called the election.” After promising not to.
By the end of the 30 minutes, all that was left of the Maybot was a puddle on the studio floor. A cleaner came in and mopped up. The slops were sent back to Downing Street in a taxi.