MONDAY

EVERYONE’S euphoric after the PM’s announcement on the lifting of all the Covid restrictions.

It seems that he was finally persuaded to get us over the line by a specially designed PPE suit which would offer added protection for frontline NHS workers.

The contract, worth £167 million, is to supply gowns and other surgical stuff which has been treated with a special chemical agent. This is supposed to offer protection against not only long Covid but, get this, “short to medium-term Covid as well”. I smelt a rat when it became clear that Greasy Dave Cameron had brokered the deal. None of the epidemiologist chaps we’ve been dealing with had ever heard of “short to medium-term Covid”. The two doctors Dave rolled out to endorse the science, Hidegkuti and Kocsis who hold doctorates from “the famed University of the Carpathians” looked like they’d just had a rather profound night on the lunar juice.

“They, um, hold professorships in the um Hagi and Stoichkov school of advanced, ah, epidemilosophy,” the PM said afterwards.

I fear this could end badly.

TUESDAY

WE’RE all still rather deflated following England’s defeat at the Euros. The PM had been looking forward to joining the victorious team on a restricted open-top bus tour round Trafalgar Square followed by a reception in Downing Street for the chaps.

He was also planning to give them all knighthoods.

And he’d instructed his chums at The Telegraph to mock up a front page featuring Gareth Southgate as Michael Caine in the Italian Job driving a good old British mini.

Slippy Gove snorted in derision. He was still smarting that his chums at a Cambridge sex toy start-up called Semi-chem had been beaten to the “short to medium-term Covid” contract.

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“I should point out to you, Boris that they were all thieves in the Italian Job,” he said. “It ended rather badly, with them trying to stop their getaway bus going over a cliff.”

Dopey Williamson had come into work wearing his England top. He thinks England are the European champions because he switched the telly off to celebrate after Harry Maguire had scored the second penalty to make it 2-1 in the shoot-out.

“No-one told me that they had to take five of the damn things. Why couldn’t someone from the whatsapp have told me?”

WEDNESDAY

WE’RE all braced for a raft of bad publicity after Dishy Rishi’s cut to foreign aid and Scary Patel’s gunboat approach to sending back refugees and asylum-seekers. So we’ve been invited to a special webinar to come up with suggestions to win back the moral high ground on immigration.

Gove’s come up with what he thinks is a wizard wheeze. He’s calling it the Third World Olympics. Every four years we select some brawny detainees to represent their countries in a series of physical pursuits and athletic endeavours.

Those who top the points table after a gruelling four-week course in the Scottish Highlands set by the SAS win asylum for their countrymen.

“We could get Harry and Meghan to do the opening ceremony and have it sponsored by one of the big on-line gambling companies. They would provide various in-game bets like how many Syrians will last til the end of a 50-mile hike through the Great Glen in winter.

“It would be a great way of educating people about the challenges faced by refugees and allow us to make a bit of money on the side. It’s a win-win situation, really.”

THURSDAY

IT’S all gone horribly wrong. Someone has leaked a video of yesterday’s meeting to The Sun who’ve splashed it all over their front page with the screaming heading: “HUNGER GAMES! Ministers under fire for deadly refugee contest”.

The Guardian intones that making a cruel spectacle out of human misery with a Rollerball type game is final proof that the government has come loose from its moral bearings. The Herald in Scotland quotes Sturgeon. “If the UK Government presses ahead with this obscene idea we’ll provide the contestants with bottles of responsibly sourced spring water and sustainable bananas from countries not on Amnesty’s watch list for human rights abuses.” You tell ‘em, Nicola.

FRIDAY

I ATTEND a day-long leadership course provided by the Bunter Foundation who’ve been given £20m to put it on via Zoom. Their aim is to encourage losers and misfits to aim for higher things. As an ice-breaker we’re chivvied into break-out rooms where we must tell other participants something they might find surprising about us.

“I once slaughtered a goat at a black mass on Stonehenge and drank its blood before pouring it onto the naked bodies of some stout Wiltshire lasses.” I tell them jokingly. There are gasps and several people immediately leave the group.

What on earth have I done?