Earnestly Assessing The UKIP Leadership Candidates

Another day, another UKIP leader bites the dust. Unlucky, Henry Bolton, but clearly your girlfriend was far too racist for the party, and you’ll have to leave your unpaid job. Who knows what the future holds for you, but at the end of the day, anything’s better than leading sodding UKIP. Retire back to the travel tavern from whence you came, and try again.

But, life moves on in the chimps’ tea party, and a new leader MUST be elected to follow through on delivering Brexit, so everyone can be as fucking miserable as their supporters. However, just WHO this new leader is going to be is yet to be determined, but luckily for you, and UKIP, I’ve identified some of the hottest prospects to take the wheel of this rudderless ship.

Figel Narage

No, I’ve never seen him before either.

“My name is Figel Narage, and I come from… some place far away. Yes. That’ll do. Anyway, I say we invest that £350m from Brexit into Nigel Farage’s knighthood”

Figel Narage is a man with a confusing, and somewhat foreign sounding name, which instantly puts him on the back foot in this contest, as everyone who supports UKIP is called Bill, Steve or Roger. No exceptions. However, there’s something about this guy that you like, but you can’t put your finger on it.

Figel likes drinking pints, smoking fags and wearing fucking stupid trousers, a bit like Rupert the Bear, but more of a cunt. He had no direct hand in the Brexit campaign, but has run around like he scored the winning goal, despite being on the substitue bench. He’s committed to delivering the hardest, veiniest Brexit possible into your quivering country, because he’s already got his German citizenship & Berlin penthouse ready to go.

Incidentally, LBC will be looking for a new radio host after Figel’s election, and more incidentally, the FBI will arrest him as part of the investigation into the Trump administration. Easy come, easy go, but at least we’ll have another UKIP leadership election to look forward to.

Leadership probability: Slightly foreign name, but the pint of bitter and pack of Benson & Hedges is helping. 7/10

This half drank pint of bitter

Rich, creamy, unable to speak. Ideal.

All the qualities of UKIP with none of the arsehole, this pint of bitter, half drank, is in pole position to take over the party, after spending so long as Farage’s right hand man over the years. Now, you may be thinking; “This pint of bitter (half drank) is incapable of speaking, or making policy decisions”, but that’s exactly why it’s such a good fit. It’s incapable of saying stupid things, doing stupid things or ending up with a girlfriend so racist she disgusts UKIP.

The Brexit bunch will buy into the personality of this half drank pint of bitter, because they themselves are slowly becoming more and more empty inside as time goes by. This is a complete assumption, but there’s probably a strong correlation between UKIP voters and bitter drinkers as well, probably best to ask your dad to confirm this research. However, temptation is the original sin, and many will be looking to get their lips around this silty, thick stud, which could lead to a party scandal.

Leadership probability: Someone drank the rest of it whilst you went for a piss. 0/10

Your dad

Your dad there, with his weird mate “Uncle Terry”

Your dad bills himself as a “straight talker” who “tells it like it is”. Which is a totally fair thing to say if he was, but he spends a good ninety percent of his time grumbling about how “muslamics” are ruining this country, because he saw a brown person. He enjoys sharing baseless, fact void Britain First memes on Facebook (potential conflict of interest?), and loudly wonders why they won’t just “get on with this Brexit, we won, get over it”. Down the pub, he’s upset about the “gays rubbing this lifestyle in my face” but at the same time he’s curious as to how the whole process works. Your mum simply puts up with it because divorce is too expensive, but she keeps hiding his warfarin.

He’s got no political experience, but last week, he took the Mail into the toilet for an hour, loudly grunting and moaning the whole time. You can’t work out if he was taking a tricky shit, getting upset at gay people, or someone 13 year old’s “shapely pins”, but whatever the case, he stunk the joint out. Probably best to give him something that’ll get him out the house.

Leadership probability: His blood pressure shot through the roof when two lads kissed on Eastenders, but give him half an hour and he should be ready to go doorknocking. 5/10

Roy Chubby Brown

Roy Chubby Brown, the star of hit DVDs such as “Front Page Boobs” and “The Great British Jerk Off”

UKIP really are the “good old days” party, because they’re clearly so fucking intent on sending us back to the 1950s. They clearly weren’t the good old days, because rock music, Deliveroo and Peep Show hadn’t been invented. Nevertheless, Chubby Brown is too the embodiment of their twisted fantasy of the “good old days”, back when you could actually tell a joke and take the piss out of people, much like I’m doing now.

I’m not actually sure if Chubby Brown is still alive, but if he is, he’d definitely walk a leadership election. He’d come out in his flying cap to a chant of “YOU FAT BASTARD!” and absolutely clean up. It’d be the same formula as Trump, get a popular guy from the 80s who says ridiculous and racist things, win a surprise election and edge us closer and closer to annihaltion. Plus, in the event of a hard Brexit, we could start an export market of Chubby Brown DVDs and Brexflix specials that will make enough money to keep the lights on for a week.

A quick Wikipedia scan informs me that not only is Chubby Brown still alive, he’s still releasing DVDs as recent as 2017, with 2016’s titled “The Great British Jerk Off”. Lovely stuff. Other titles include “Front Page Boobs” and “Too Fat To Be Gay”. It’s not offense that’s the problem, it’s just fucking laziness.

Leadership probability: I said this as a joke, but I think if he ran, he’d win, and do something Farage could never do, and get elected as an MP. 8/10

Sam Allardyce

Why have you forsaken us, Big Sam?

Big Sam provably voted leave, but you knew that he did anyway. Mick McCarthy probably did, so in terms of football management heroes, I’m pretty thin on the ground here.

The No-bullshit Nostradamus can’t be fussed with these EU busybodies. Hates these well groomed foreign lads coming over here to play their fancy football. Give him a rough cut English lad who’ll launch the ball into space and a pint of gravy, and he’ll be happy.

Big Sam’s an expert at dragging clubs out of the relegation zone and into the top half with his no-nonsense approach to football. Can this superior tactical nous be translated into politics? Probably. Big Sam will get the lads drinking gravy and hoofing their opponents by the local elections in May, managing to pull some suprising results out of the hat along the way.

Eventually, Big Sam will slowly fade into the shadows after managing to secure a somehow beneficial Brexit, and a string of 11th places, on his way to save yet another political party in the doldrums.

See also: Mike Basset

Leadership probability: No nonsense, proven track record, likes drinking gravy by the gallon. It’s a yes from me. 10/10

The Verdict

So there we have it folks, five young and hungry candidates ready to further drive an irrelevant party into greater obscurity. At the end of the day, it doesn’t matter who, or what, takes over UKIP, because nothing matters any more. We’re all just waiting until a senile gameshow host fires the starting pistol on a nuclear holocaust that will leave us all dead. Henry Bolton, I think that’s his name, bravely soldiered on in his unpaid internship as UKIP leader, managed to leave his family for a young model, who turned out to be so racist he got fired from his unpaid job. He wasn’t paid to do this, he paid to do this, which is absolutely fucking hilarious. All this shit and no million pound payoff.

Anyway, just give it back to Farage and hopefully that’ll reboot us to about 2014, so we can stop all this from happening.

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