Terminal Britishness

Once again, traditional British values are gratifyingly to the fore at the Ministry of Wog Control, whose minions showed almost every conceivable consideration to a melanin-advantaged deportee before she cast an embarrassing damper by dropping dead of a pulmonary embolism. As part of a swarming horde of two South African taxpayers, the migrant in question had been crowding Britons out of a job for more than ten years, and when she and her husband were indiscreet enough to try and renew their visas they were duly ordered out of the country and bundled onto a flight. Although the attending wog control personnel were not in the least fooled by the female cockroach's collapse at the airport, it was decided to postpone the deportation and kick the culprits into jail instead, presumably in order to spare the delicate sensibilities of any hired boot-boys on the plane who might be haunted by the name of Mubenga. A nurse pronounced the malingerer too ill to cope with the luxuries of detention; but the centre management knew better than to listen to mere experts, and the Ministry for Wog Control topped off the edifying saga by sending the deceased a text eighteen days after her death, warning of the dire consequences should she fail to present herself before the Britishness Police. A spokesbeing for the Ministry of Wog Control has offered its thoughts and condolences, which is certainly frightfully decent of it.