My name is Abs. Eddy Abs.
Yesterday I flew to Moscow on a covert top secret flight, where I met with a delightful lady called Rosa Klebb. A very sharp lady with a stabbing knee jerk wit. Anyway, we had a laugh about Prime Minister Tweezer May and her cabinet of clowns, and I divulged some top state secrets, such as the price of marmite post-referendum, and just how bad Jacob Rees-Mogg’s halitosis is. We went back to Rosa’s penthouse suite on the top floor of the Ministry of You Can’t Make This Shit Up, where I admired her tulips which festooned the breadth of her magnificent balcony.
All of a sudden two shapely female legs descended behind Rosa in slow motion and kicked her over the edge of the balcony. The legs slowly descended and as her stilettos hit the deck her Union Jack parachute with Boris Johnson 4 PM emblazoned on it folded in a *whoosh* behind her, as it retracted into her retractable parachute thingy. Then, smiling, Miss FunnyFanny sang me an uplifting and jaunty Irish shanty and poured me an advocaat and babycham….agitated, not smoothed….of course.
After this we hit the red light district and had a totally bisexual ménage-à-trois with Trotsky.
We caught a flight back to Blighty with raconteur and anarchist Alotta Labia, and on landing I was arrested along with Miss FunnyFanny and Alotta Labia by G4S’s head of secret security, Miss Molten Va-jay-jay.
A full on orgy ensued, and I gave birth to a magnificent silverback gorilla via c-section.
Of course this is all utter bullshit but you get the point.