It’s not exactly difficult to believe that the weather in this country would somehow manage to get the upper hand over one political force or another. The fact that it was the Labour party is something I find a little bit surprising but we ought to remember quite how desperate certain people within the party are to rid themselves of the influence of one Jeremy Corbyn.
So a cold wind swept its way into London. It funnelled swiftly and sneakily through the halls of power, was momentarily disturbed to see that it hadn’t made it into the actual government (that is something of a tall order when you take into account the fact that this is essentially sentient wind and is rather lacking in the eyesight department) and then decided to make the best of a bad fist of affairs.
The big freeze kept things chilly as only a nippy wind will enjoy. Sure, things took something of a slight turn for the evil when said freeze started treating shadow cabinet members as its own personal puppets. Manipulating vocal chords was an absolute breeze after the previous feat had been accomplished. Not afraid to take risks and get its fingers a little dirty, the big freeze began a fact finding campaign.
So now the freeze sits atop a gaudily jewel encrusted throne thanks to the dirt it holds over Corbyn. It has plans for elections and the country and also for a deliciously shiny crown just as soon as it works out how it’ll get said hat to stay where it’s supposed to. At least once it manages to get into power we won’t be wrong when we say that the thing at the top of the chain of command is full of hot air. Or cold, whatever, it seemed like a good analogy or something when I started.