Overview on The Strikes: My Plan Comes Together by Professor Evil Pants

Those poor fools. As the world turns and my monkeys in the government institute yet another plan to rob the dummies out of babies’ mouths the lumpen proletariat spill onto the streets to wave a few measly placards under the impression that their bleatings will change the course of history which I, Professor Pants, have set into motion the very day I rigged the election to present the doe-eyed public with this travesty of a ‘coalition’. Sowing the seeds of discontent from one of my many underground volcanoes’ situated off the South Coast (but not too near the Isle of Wight – they’re a bit weird over there) I take one step closer to the domination of the world through people shouting a bit about the Tories and wearing masks outside St. Paul’s.

It’s all so simple. Do you, dear reader, really believe that the lumbering, blind gropings of those incompetents in the cabinet are really coming up with these ‘austerity measures’ purely through their own blundering incompetence? Why, the policies and cuts they propagate are obviously the ravings of some insane genius – an insane genius like me, working the strings of Downing Street as the puppets dance to my tune. Only a fool or an insane gibbering madman would hit the bottom 30% with crippling financial measures whilst the top 3% chuckle into their champagne glasses and flick the ‘V’s at the poor and destitute, and that’s exactly what I’ve done. Bellend Drone #34785 – David Cameron – has unwittingly followed the machinations of a superior intellect and decided to wee all over the little people, gleefully laughing with malice and spite as the poor slumber in their ignorance.

Look at what the gibbering monkey boy Osbourne has done to propagate the inequality in the United Kingdom. Everything aimed at helping those without a chauffeur has been drastically cut, slashed, beaten, kicked or just plain knifed in the epiglottis, while those lovely bankers with more money than you can shake at a baboon with concrete testicles laugh their way into a nice retirement, snorting powdered bank notes off the mammaries of underage goats on their lavish yachts as they laugh – yes, laugh – at the plight of the poor and needy.

The greatest way to stir the seeds of discontent and work the public up into a state of anarchy is with the disparity between the rich and the poor. As long as you keep pumping sexy money into the rich despite the inherited privileges of the ruling classes which never worked a sliver of varnish off their perfectly coiffered fingernails in an honest day’s labour whilst reminding the poor that they don’t deserve a thing and should be bloody well grateful when our kindly officers pump plastic bullets into their nether regions at close range whilst choking them on lemon scented tear gas whilst they try and grab whatever riches have been dangled before their pauper eyes for their entire lives, the better it is to stoke up the resentment between the two factors.

Once you get that resentment going you get the seeds of social discourse. You create a two tier economic system of the haves and the have-nots. And then the poor start to revolt, the kindly plod can’t stem the tide of discontent and anger – especially when you cut their wages as well and replace their batons with squeaky toy hammers because of budget cuts, and society crumbles. And that’s where I step in with my phalanx of deadly ninja robot Chihuahuas to take over the world as we know it and instigate a new dictatorship of Professor Evil Pants

Of course, it helps if your opposition to the insane gibbering ravings of Cameron and Osborne is a feckless tissue soft lacklustre fool, such as Millibeetle. Why, he can pump the pulpit as much as possible, but the witless burblings which spill forth from his foolish mouth are but a whiff of ginger to such blank-eyed propagators of mendacity like the prime minister. Whilst the shadow cabinet can bleat along as much as possible all Cameron hears is the gentle tinkle of wind chimes in his ears. The next time he’s up there on the pulpit, patronising the women and waving his opinions vaguely in the direction of the television cameras, take a good, hard look into his eyes and you will find they are blank. A vast, echoing chasm of opinion formed by consensus and ratified through whatever private finance is propping up his millions at the moment. Remember, this is a man who once ate a dog on the suggestion of his PR advisors, although that was quickly hushed up before it could leak into the public sector.

So, protest on, vast unsatisfied swathes of the English public, for your discontent can only lead to my eventual dictatorship. By all means wave your placards and wear your facemasks condemning the seemingly brutal and unnecessary cuts in the public sectors which prop up the country whilst the bean counters bleat endlessly on about how the private sector has worse conditions and pensions than the public sector so therefore it’s not fair if the public sector strikes. Of course, this does miss the seemingly blatant point that maybe the private sector shouldn’t be such bastards and maybe they should improve their conditions to come in line with the private sector in an effort to force equality and magnanimity on the public and thus make the standard of living better, but how can I storm the Bundestag – I mean House of Commons – if that happens. The very nature of my evil plans demand that the coalition sow the seeds of countrywide discontent by making the rich richer and the poor smellier, driving the seeds of discontent between the those who have fucking millions and those who have a one way ticket to Plop Central where laughing gimp boys loaned out to the liberals can wee on their unfortunate heads whilst their Tory masters swill buckets of pure evil and laugh heartily at the paups. Probably.

So leads on, McCameron, and flagellate the very people who hold this country up, for tomorrow can only bring the stench of Chihuahua scented death.