Mr. Anger’s yellow outfit, emblazoned with ‘I love Nigel’ all over it, dazzled the adoring crowd at the Moaning Cow Public House. He had consumed his seventh pint of Australian lager, and two whiskey chasers, and was now well into his condemnation of the latest proposal from the EU.
“My friends, I Mr. Thatcher, Churchill, Disraeli Angry, want to keep Britain for the British. This idea is crazy and I Mr..”
“Get on with it you drunk” shouted the man at the fruit machine.
“I’ll stop this speed limiter.”
“I use my brakes to slow down” yelled a heckler in the fifth row.
“Officials in Brussels are suggesting that all our vehicles should have cameras that read speed limits.”
“You’ll never stop it Mr. Angry. Most of the cars we drive are German” said a lady who was checking Mrs. Angry’s bingo numbers.
“Vehicles on the road will have to have ‘Big Brother’ technology fitted” continued the orator. “I have spoken to the Transport Minister..er..Ed Balls…er…Glenda Jackson…no, Nadine Dorries.”
“Patrick McLoughlin, you dimwit” cried a man at the back.
“And he is very cross.”
“Mr. Angry” suggested Mrs. Angry. “Did you know that 30,000 people die on EU roads every year and 1.5 million are injured.”
“Which is why I, Mr. Angry, intend to become the patron saint of car drivers.”
“There is one, you moron” said a woman at the back. “It’s Saint Frances of Rome.”
“Mr. Angry” cried Rita the bar maid. “The police have just phoned. You’ve been banned from driving for ten years after you punched the invigilator at your speed awareness course. Mr. Angry..!?