UK economy to collapse if England doesn’t qualify for Brazil 2014

by philapilus
World cup England

A metaphor even the English can understand

The success or otherwise of the England football team to qualify for the World Cup hangs over the UK economy like the sword of Damocles, it was claimed yesterday, and failure is guaranteed to reduce us to mass poverty, savage barbarism and starvation.

The British Retail Consortium yesterday warned the FA that if England did not qualify, the cost to the wider sphere of commerce across the UK would be “At least a Jizzilion kasmillion pounds”.

Wendy Nailinthehead, of the BRC, said “Unless our team of people who kick a ball about on a field get to kick the ball about on a field in South America, the entire financial basis of the country is ruined, and the British people face possible extinction.

“The pound will become worthless, everyone will resort to cannibalism; murder and theft will be ubiquitous – the whole country will be like one big version of Newcastle.”

The BRC’s claim is based upon the premise that every job in the country is intrinsically dependent upon sweaty, shouty men, buying lager and pork scratchings in huge quantities, sitting in pubs yelling at the tops of their voices, and then urinating against other people’s front doors on their way home.

Which, given that the UK no longer engages in any other form of commerce except selling fundamentally flawed insurance packages to one another, is sadly true.

Danny Alexander, Official Jester at the treasury, said “I told George Osborne about this grave peril this morning.

“All the colour drained from his oily little face, and his lip trembled. ‘We might not qualify?’ he quavered. ‘That’s right, master’ I said.

“Then he had to call his PA to run out for a new pair of pants again.”

Football fanatic Rick Head said “As an extremely lazily drawn stereotype of a beer-swilling, barely sentient, caveman, I can confirm that unless I can watch my national football team on the television, I won’t go near a pub or let a British pie pass my lips for at least the rest of the year. And nor will any of the rest of my tribe.

“We’ll probably just go to Tuscanny and sit around piazzas drinking red wine, with the middle classes. It will be fucking awful.”

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