Corybn gave his wettest ever performance at PMQs. The party leaders had different theories about the authorship of the floods. Corbyn blamed Cameron. Cameron blamed the weather. Rainfall, he explained, had wept from the heavens in such unheralded quantities that a record-breaking dip-stick had to be lowered into the bucket to assess its full volume. Corbyn wouldn’t have this. He said government scrimping was at fault.
He personified the issue with his usual set of hand-picked hankie-drenchers. He’d met a nice pair from Leeds, he said, called Chris and Victoria, whose holiday had been ruined by tides of sewage inundating their pressies. This prompted mystifying giggles from Tory backbenchers. Geography teacher Corbyn glared over his specs with his wintriest look. ‘It wasn’t very funny for them,’ he scolded, whiskers a-quiver. ‘This young couple lost many of their possessions: photos, children, toys.’ Yes, he said that. They lost their children.
Cameron threw up his usual billion-pound smoke-screen and claimed that an immeasurable plenitude of cash had already been spent on deluxe concrete embankments and top-dollar dykes.
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