by Stan Donderite

As credits roll, the deep, authoritative voice of the narrator is heard.

Narrator: Reality. The final frontier. These are the voyages of the Starship Tory UK Enterprise. Having left the safety of the EU Federation, it must now explore strange new places, seeking countries willing to enter into trade deals with a Captain and crew who have already proved themselves to be untrustworthy liars. The Starship ploughs on, its never-ending mission to explore the world, find other civilisations and to conquer them through a combination of bombastic propaganda, faithless negotiations and, as long as they can’t fight back, military power. To boldly plumb the depths which most nations would never contemplate.

The scene switches to the bridge of the Starship. Captain Boris D Johnson sits in his command chair, swivelling it around and idly playing with the control switches to see what they do. Other senior command officers sit around the bridge, studying display screens. A group of advisors stand beside the Captain’s chair.

Advisor 1: Captain, the crew of the northern section are threatening to evacuate.

Captain BDJ: Phwaa! Again? Burble, burble. What is it this time?

Advisor 1: They say you are dragging them to places they don’t want to go. They say this voyage is being made against their will.

Captain BDJ: Harumph! Well, we can’t let them just leave. Blah, blah. We need the manpower and resources they provide. I’d better go and give them one of my famous pep talks. I’ll quote some bad Latin at them. Phwaa!

Advisor 1: Do you think that’s wise, Captain? There was a near mutiny the last time you went to speak to them.

Captain BDJ: Nonsense. Um … ah … I shall tell them they would never survive without us. Then I’ll have First Officer Gove and Commander Jack confiscate their phasers, thus leaving them powerless. They’re bound to fall for that again. It works every time.

Advisor 2: But what about the Welsh contingent, Captain? They are making noises as well.

Captain BDJ: Ah … um … blah. Let them. Nobody cares what they say. Anyway, our own crew members have been sent in great numbers to infiltrate their population and dilute any threat from there.

Advisor 3: But the Irish crew are also threatening to abandon ship, Captain. They want to join their own planet.

Captain BDJ: Phwaa? But we’ve already given them the best of both worlds! They are never happy. Perhaps we should cut our losses and let them go.

Um … I can let Security Officer Patel take care of that.

Security Officer Patel: It will be a pleasure, Captain. I shall cast them adrift, ejecting them from the air locks with no space suits. That will teach them.

Captain BDJ: Ah! Um, isn’t that a bit heartless, Patel?

Security Officer Patel: Thank you, Captain.

Officer Kuenssberg interrupts: Captain! We are being hailed by Space Shuttle Labour.

Captain BDJ: Kuenssberg? Phwoar! Is that you? You’re not part of our crew, are you?

Officer Kuenssberg: I always have been, Captain. Ready to relay your words of wisdom without question.

Captain BDJ: Jolly good! Well, Blah! you’d better put Captain Starmer on screen. He’s one of us, after all. Harumph!

First Officer Gove: But, Captain. He’s after your job. You shouldn’t trust him.

Captain BDJ: I wouldn’t bother about that, First Officer. Burble. You’re after my job as well, but I put up with you.

The intercom blares: Captain! Engineering to bridge.

Captain BDJ (rolling his eyes): Broonie? What is it now?

Engineer Broon: We need to slow down, Captain. The ship cannae take much more o’ this. She’ll fall apart if we keep heading towards Planet Brexit.

Captain BDJ: It’s too late to stop now, Broon. You’ll need to keep the ship together. Can’t you make some sort of intervention?

Engineer Broon: I’ve done that dozens of times, Captain, but the pressure is too much. We’re going to lose all the outer parts of the ship.

Captain BDJ: That’s not good enough, Broon. Now is not the time for parts of the ship to break off. Promise me you’ll hold it together.

Engineer Broon: You want me to give you a vow, Captain?

Captain BDJ: Phwaa! That works every time, Broon. Now get back in your engineering box and stop pestering me.

Officer Kuenssberg: What about Captain Starmer, Sir? Will you speak to him now?

Captain BDJ: No, Um … ah …burble. I can’t be bothered answering his questions. Just tell him to follow my lead whatever I do. He’s used to that.

Officer Kuenssberg: Very good, Captain.

Captain BDJ turns to the helmsman.

Captain BDJ: Mister Rees-Mogg! Plot a course for the 18th Century.

Helmsman Rees-Mogg (gleefully): Aye, aye, Captain !

First Officer gove: Captain, you do realise that is a dangerous route? It will lead us to austerity, massive wealth inequality, a plethora of food banks, poorhouses and all sorts of social deprivation.

Captain BDJ: But … Phwaa! the rewards for us are great, First Officer. We will all become even richer than we are now, and the plebs will be kept in their place. Is that not so?

First Officer Gove: Indeed it is, Captain. Now that we have left the control of the Federation, we are free to do as we please.

Captain BDJ: Huzzah! Then make it so!

The closing scene, in which the Starship Tory UK Enterprise is seen plummeting into a black hole from which there is no escape.

Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to living persons is purely deliberate.