Post by DalekCheese on Sept 24, 2020 16:15:56 GMT -5
Ben Chatham’s Mission to Eradicate the Working Classes
Chapter the First: Realisation of Purpose
“Will that be all, Mr. Chatham, Sir?”
“”Almost; I say, Catherington, why don’t you lick my boots? There’s a good chap. You’re almost worth the farthing I pay you every year.”
The butler managed to pause for a moment and obsequiously mutter ,”Thank you, Sir,” before he was hit round the head with a platinum stick.
“You dare stop licking my boots? You stupid lower-class bastard!”
A gunshot rang out across the millions of acres that made up Chatham’s estate.
“Next!”
Ben Chatham’s Mission to Eradicate the Working Classes
Chapter the Second: Execution of the Working Classes
Chatham cut an imposing figure as he rode through the street, primarily because his horse was so wealthy that it rode a butler-horse itself. Another thing that Chatham cut was the heads off the lower classes! He saw a policeman in front of his horse’s butler-horse, and slowed.
“Excuse me Sir, ‘ave you got a loisence for that there killin’ of the poor?”
“I’ll forgive your slurring and incorrect pronunciation just this once. To answer your question, yes, I do; I’m a member of the Tory Party, a licence to hunt the lower classes comes with the registration papers.”
“Very well then, Sir. Carry on.”
Chatham did so. He slaughtered over 1.5 million chavs that day.
Ben Chatham’s Mission to Eradicate the Working Classes
Chapter the Second: End; or; How I Learned to Stop Worrying And Love Eradicating the Working Classes (not that I worried to begin with)
The strategy had been a success. Every single man, woman, and child who earned less than £20 million a year was either killed, imprisoned, or sent to Australia.
In a surprising move that stuns sociologists to this day, the Great Britain left behind became truly great- a veritable Utopia. No longer were wars fought, or poverty endured; people were civil to each other. They ate organic, hand-reared veal with absinthe for every meal.
Ben Chatham became King of this new land; he was canonised as a Saint and won the Nobel Peace Prize. His entire acceptance speech went thus:
“All I did was kill 70 million-odd Chavs in a few weeks. They had it coming.”
Chapter the First: Realisation of Purpose
“Will that be all, Mr. Chatham, Sir?”
“”Almost; I say, Catherington, why don’t you lick my boots? There’s a good chap. You’re almost worth the farthing I pay you every year.”
The butler managed to pause for a moment and obsequiously mutter ,”Thank you, Sir,” before he was hit round the head with a platinum stick.
“You dare stop licking my boots? You stupid lower-class bastard!”
A gunshot rang out across the millions of acres that made up Chatham’s estate.
“Next!”
Ben Chatham’s Mission to Eradicate the Working Classes
Chapter the Second: Execution of the Working Classes
Chatham cut an imposing figure as he rode through the street, primarily because his horse was so wealthy that it rode a butler-horse itself. Another thing that Chatham cut was the heads off the lower classes! He saw a policeman in front of his horse’s butler-horse, and slowed.
“Excuse me Sir, ‘ave you got a loisence for that there killin’ of the poor?”
“I’ll forgive your slurring and incorrect pronunciation just this once. To answer your question, yes, I do; I’m a member of the Tory Party, a licence to hunt the lower classes comes with the registration papers.”
“Very well then, Sir. Carry on.”
Chatham did so. He slaughtered over 1.5 million chavs that day.
Ben Chatham’s Mission to Eradicate the Working Classes
Chapter the Second: End; or; How I Learned to Stop Worrying And Love Eradicating the Working Classes (not that I worried to begin with)
The strategy had been a success. Every single man, woman, and child who earned less than £20 million a year was either killed, imprisoned, or sent to Australia.
In a surprising move that stuns sociologists to this day, the Great Britain left behind became truly great- a veritable Utopia. No longer were wars fought, or poverty endured; people were civil to each other. They ate organic, hand-reared veal with absinthe for every meal.
Ben Chatham became King of this new land; he was canonised as a Saint and won the Nobel Peace Prize. His entire acceptance speech went thus:
“All I did was kill 70 million-odd Chavs in a few weeks. They had it coming.”