One Eye Open. Coated In A Thick, Slimy Membrane

Hello, cunt oik bastards.

A lot of people say to me, "George, millions are going to lose their jobs. Families, lives will be torn apart as a direct consequence of your actions. How do you sleep at night?"

And I laugh. I laugh in their faces, their poor, ugly faces, smeared in chicken grease, I laugh in them and I say, "you are very stupid."

Look, you sort of voted for us. Us, the Conservative Party, you voted for us. We bring misery to millions, that's what we do, we're the Conservative Party. What did you expect? I promised fairness. I didn't say to whom that fairness would apply. You assumed I meant the poor. My conscience, such as it is, remains clear.

But listen: it's not all bad. The pain will only be temporary, I assure you, in the wider view of things. Let's say, for example, that I were to cut off your legs. That would make you sad, wouldn't it? You would be sad boys and girls, sad, legless boys and girls, hahaha, kick them in their faces and run away, they'll never catch you!

But you mustn't be sad! Because other people will still have legs. And other people will continue to be born with legs. And in fact, the empty space where once your legs stood, now there is room for one more legged person, albeit a small one. And that is what economists call growth, and that is what we have set out to achieve.

It's time to face facts, and what better time for me to demonise whole swathes of society than when you're all clinging, desperate and cowardly, to the crumbling remains of the lives you once knew, prepared to cut loose anyone you believe will drag you down further? Let's face those facts, once and for all smash the manacles of political correctness with which the last government enslaved us, and grasp the glorious truth: the poor are useless. They are disgusting. They smell. They constantly expel wind from various orifices. They spend the vast majority of their lives on the toilet. They are mean, grasping and lazy, growing fat on the fruits of your labours. They sacrifice children.

A privatised nation! A corporatocracy! Our social inferiors, who once held us so ruthlessly to ransom, sat masturbating and hooting by the roadsides, beating each other to death with bloody thigh bones! Upturned cars! Derelict estates ruled by barking packs of feral children! Human meat! Miles and miles of burning wasteland, punctuated by gleaming pockets of wealth and commerce! High-end consumerism! Fine dining! Urban streets free of all but the highest achievers! This is your future! This is our vision! You will flourish or you will die!

Necessity is the mother of getting to do things the way we like.