Tips for Beginning Boaters

A graduate of the Georgia Institute of Technology, Matthew Musheno works as senior account executive for Johnson Controls, Inc., in Atlanta, Georgia. In his spare time, Matthew Musheno enjoys…

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Flexit

The year is 2035. Despite their 500 seat majority over her Majesty the Queen Theresa’s Opposition, the Green Monster Raving Buckethead Party, the Tories still cannot get a Brexit deal through Parliament.

In an effort to restore unity, and placate in particular the far-out fringes of the party, the PM calls a referendum over whether or not Britain should leave… the world.

Flexit, as it is termed (Flying Exit, Fully Logical Exit, Frankly Lunatic Exit, Fucking Logistically Impossible Exit, Flippin’ ‘ecksit… Take your pick) wins by an overwhelmingly definitive margin of 2%, and is soon voted into law. Commentators lazily attribute the victory to Flexit’s harking back to the Empire days, when Britain was always ‘flexing it’ at other countries’ expense, or maybe it just sounded cool.

Despite the unrealistic requirements of the non binding referendum result, the PM must deliver Flexit, which means Flexit after all.

Some time later, astonishingly, Flexit is delivered thanks to a stash of leftover Dyson motors and the work of some aviation and terraforming *experts* (who upon their success were quite rightly accused of peddling ‘Project Fear’ during the ‘Down to Earth’ campaign). Britain is now hovering far above the Earth’s surface.

Good thing too, as the rest of the planet is destroyed a short time later when the notoriously thin-skinned American and Chinese leaders fall out over who has the greatest wall and descend into cataclysmic nuclear war.

‘Hadrian’s wall is clearly the best!’ says the PM upon hearing the news, flexing it like a champion while Britain, left with no one to trade with, slides over the edge into chaos.

Note: David Cameron stayed on Earth, as pigs do not fly. Rumour has it that, desperate to be able to tell someone that he categorically does not regret calling the referendum, he roams the earth searching for a Nokia 3310, the only thing besides his fucking luxury shed that may have survived the nuclear armageddon.

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