Regulars at the Moaning Cow public house had been awaiting Mr. Angry’s New Year speech with frenzied excitement. Their idol was wearing a new yellow outfit which had fallen off the back of a lorry.
“Friends” he began after drinking his third pint of strong lager “Moderation. That is my message to you all.” He paused and stood proudly. “Why do you all, every Sunday, listen to me, Montgomery Eisenhower Angry. It’s because I set the standards for others to follow. It’s my selfless attitude that you so admire. I repeat the key word to you. Moderation.”
“Why have you got two wives?” shouted the man at the fruit machine.
“We’re in a period of national austerity. We all need to pull together and build our businesses.”
“Yours is in receivership” cried a woman in the second row.
“And WHAT do I read in today’s paper.”Rail Minister spends £80k on limo to work.”
He started his fourth pint of lager and warmed to his task.
“Friends it’s the Minister of State for Transport. Are we paying much higher rail fares? This Simon Burns. He has a car from his home in Essex. He’s only 60. He should use the train. I’m paying £80,000 a year just because he’s doing this.”
“Who did you make the cheque payable to Mr. Angry?”
“We the tax payers are paying for this man’s laziness. I’m angry.” He had a whisky chaser to help his depression. “We are still in recession. We must, all of us, work more honestly and rebuild Britain together.”
“Mr. Angry” cried Rita the barmaid. “Your council taxi’s here. The doctor says it’ll run you to the surgery. He signed your five benefits certificates. He says could you not leave your golf clubs in the boot this time.”