To celebrate Refugee Week, where we recognise the contribution that hip hoppers the Fugees have made to our sceptred isle. Without these simple folk walking around this green and peasant land singing “Ready of not here I come” who knows how the United Kingdom of Englandshire would have evolved? And who better to represent the cause of the lost soul than this little fella who washed up on the shores of Wivenhoe in the early sixties?
On the run from an evil regime that ruled over his homeland, muscle-bound Mick paid off pirates to ensure safe passage to Wivenhoe from a barbaric third-world regime called Dartford.
As Michalmass Mickleby explains: “It were proper awful. They were planning this huge shopping centre in the Blue Water lagoon where we used to go and play in the muddy waters as kids. So me and a few of the lads got together and decided to escape to a more beautiful land, where we knew we’d be treated all proper and that – turns out you can get what you want if you try sometimes…”
Sadly, not everyone is welcoming to those needing help, as Ukipper Gerry Phuck-Whit explains: “I’m sick to death of all these foreigns coming over here and enrichening our lives and improving our culture. Whether it’s Anglo Saxons, French Hugonos or the Kents, they should all bugger orf back to fifth century Northern Europe of wherever it is they belong.”
Mickey Mouth is just one of the millions of individuals that have made the People’s Republic of Englandshire the rich tapestry of nationalities it is today – coming over here with their culture, sharing their skills and knowledge and making our otherwise cruddy existence like proper good or something. Long may it continue, yeah?