Who’s going to support us? Civil Servants or Oligarchs?...
“Oh, Mr Monie,” sighed the former Russian Olympic shot putt champion, Eva Brick, as she plucked some grey hairs from his eyebrows, “you just don’t understand the mentality behind BUNK.”
British United National Kingdom Party
Mr Moan flared. “I founded the British United National Kingdom Party,” he exclaimed.
“Yes, Mr Monie,” replied Eva, punching him gently in his stomach, “you did and you’re a political giant.” She frowned. “But can you tell me why it is destined to become the greatest political force Britain has ever known?”
“Well, modesty prevents me from…”
“Of course, Mr Monie, you are its inspiration but why, I ask you again, will it succeed?”
Only Tax The Rich
“Because BUNK will tax the 1% rich and abolish all other taxes.”
Eva paused to complete a two minutes hand-stand on one arm.
“But why will that work?” she quizzed the perplexed politician. “But before you answer I want to ask you another question.” She smiled and Mr Moan melted. “Who is your greatest supporter?”
“Piers Corbyn,” suggested Britain’s next Prime Minister.
“The future Mayor of London,” repeated Eva. “Good suggestion but not right.” The Deputy Chair of BUNK tickled her partner. “No, the correct answer is British Civil Servants.”
Mr Moan stood up and frowned as he asked Eva to explain.
The BUNK War Chest
“Mr Monie,” she began as she faced her partner. “We are agreed that democratic elections are fuelled by money. Donald Trump already has amassed $122m for the 2024 Presidential campaign. BUNK is building its own war chest.”
She picked him up and swirled him around. “You are worried that the present Russian tensions will see a drop in our funding.”
“You must understand, Eva,” sighed the troubled political giant. “They have stopped the Tier 1 investor visas where the individual needed more that £2m. Since 2008 over 2,500 Russian citizens have successfully applied.” He stared at Eva. “The best known is Roman Abramovich, the owner of Chelsea Football Club and an ally of Mr Putin.”
Eva had drifted into a trance wherein she was in the swimming pool of Mr Abramovich’s new £439m, 460 feet Solaris superyacht due for delivery in the summer. She regained consciousness, sat Mr Moan on the sofa and handed him a glass of vodka. “Nostrovia,” she cried as she downed her own glass in one. He saw that she was beaming.
“I, Eva Brick, have found a loophole.”
“You have?” yelled Mr Moan.
Golden Talent Visa Scheme
“They have not closed the Golden Talent Visa scheme.” She announced. “It’s for leaders in academia, art and culture.” She pushed on. “ Lasts five years. All that is needed is an endorsement from one of six organisation. Here’s the list. We have insiders in two of them.”
“No, Eva. It won’t work because it will be realised that it gets round the Tier 1 scheme closure.”
She again picked up her mentor.
“Who, Mr Moan, checks the applications?”
“The Home Office,” he answered correctly.
“Who, specifically?”
Civil Servants Of Course
“Civil servants,” said Mr. Moan.
“Exactly, Mr Moan. “And they don’t think. They merely check pieces of papers. Our funding is secure.”
“Oh, Eva, how can I reward you?”
Mr Moan did not speak or understand Russian but he had a pretty good idea of what Eva Brick was suggesting.”
