Howay, random shopper – we’re Ant & Dec, a conjoined physical manifestation of mundanity boiled up by the psychic trauma of deregulated free market capitalism within the charred womb of Brexit Britain.

As you’ll know, we’re presently tasked with fronting several highly-effective cultural smokescreens which shepherd the hoodwinked masses towards full acceptance of totalitarian corporate enslavement. Our popular colloquialisms “why aye”, “ooh canny” and “lines are now open” are known to evoke such cosy familiarity that the proletariat willingly upload their bank card details to our Ant & Dec-branded online slot machines.

Right now, however, you’re likely wondering why we’re speaking to you as one unified voice inside an M&S self-serve till. Well, we publicly apologised for the 2007 rigged phone-in vote scandal as a singular entity and got away with that, so why not earn £200k by once again fronting an endeavour that fleeces the public? This time, it’s falafels that taste like a sphincter’s memories and “meat feast” pizzas Morrissey could digest.

The public has already accepted us as a single physical presence anyway – Stephen Mulhern. You know him – that chirpy, excitable fella who looks like our waxworks fused together in an atomic blast. It’s actually not so far from the truth. After the huge success of CD:UK, I’m A Celebrity, Britain’s Got Talent and Saturday Night Takeaway, ITV took the commercially-astute decision to clone us – ensuring the show could go on if Ant failed to survive any future instances of reckless driving.

Yet, if you’ve seen what happens to Jeff Goldblum in The Fly, you’ll understand how such cutting-edge science often goes a bit awry – with two subjects sometimes ending up fused within one body. Many will consider Mulhern to be a hideous, freakish affront to the laws of nature, but you should have seen the earlier versions that ITV had to kill with fire.

Of course, some of you will cynically believe we’re only working with M&S to pocket 10 times the average annual salary for an afternoon’s graft monetising our working class accents – a prostitution of our humble upbringings that some have suggested is akin to exploitative cultural appropriation at this point. But rest assured it wasn’t just for the money. To us, £200k is like a fart from a midge’s ghost out a spaceship window. The bank wouldn’t phone if it was stolen from our account.

You might have read in the downmarket press that we earned £24k each day last year with various brand endorsements, royalties, production companies and suchlike. Yet, rest assured, wealth hasn’t changed us one bit – except for that canny hair transplant one of us sneaked past you all! Not Ant – his forehead is a pop culture touchstone. We simply felt our fans would never tolerate a baldy wee Dec.

Let’s talk shop

SO now you know we didn’t take this M&S voice gig for the money, we can admit there was an ulterior “self-serving” motive. Nothing sinister, like – our agent just took things literally when we told him we wanted to talk shop with the man on the street about politics. And women on the street too – because they also have the vote. And so they should! But doesn’t it then seem somewhat unfair that the nation’s prison inmates don’t have a similar right to participate in democracy? Especially those who might have been locked up for simply going on the rob to feed their gambling habits?

Not only do we believe they should get a say in the running of society – but we would also urge these canny lads to join the Conservative party upon release to help the 124,000-strong membership choose the new Prime Minister.

You might be wondering why Ant & Dec care about politics all of a sudden. And also why gambling addicts should care about the next PM. Well, it’s obvious – if prisoners want to keep on enjoying Ant & Dec branded slot machines on 32Red.com when they get out, they have to ensure Dominic Raab is the guy who wins the house with 10 black.

With the mainstream media continually demonising Raab, we now feel it’s our public duty to let M&S shoppers know the truth about this patriot. In particular, how he has fought tirelessly over the years for your right to spend your hard-earned money on gambling opportunities however and whenever you damn well please. Unless you used the free £10 our site offers to get you started, of course!

Raab’s a good bet

NOW, if you’re reading this, you’re clearly a fake news devotee with a skewed view of Dominic Raab. To you, he’s the guy who thinks foodbank users are not “languishing in poverty” and told a disability activist her pleas to help the terminally ill were a “childish wish list”.

You might also have read he called feminists “obnoxious bigots” and suggested small firms should be exempt from minimum wage laws for workers under 21. This week, he also suggested suspending Parliament was a good way of getting his desired “no-deal” Brexit passed.

But you can’t judge an ocean by a single wave. Or the odd tsunami. As evidence of Raab going toe-to-toe with the nanny state and trust-fund liberals who seek to impose joyless restrictions upon our personal freedoms, it’s vital we inform you of his record in libertarianism.

In 2011, Raab declared war on the tyranny of red tape by voting against planning permission requirements for new betting shops. In 2013, he voted against measures that would allow gambling operators to ban users who had registered for self-exclusion to curb their habit. Rabb clearly understands a man should be free to change his mind!

Later that year, he voted against extending the horseracing betting levy to overseas bookmakers. Apparently, the substantial tax revenues would have gone towards improving horseracing safety standards and advancing veterinary science. All well and good, but it took Raab to voice the concerns of the very human shareholders of glue and beefburger firms.

Raab also voted to increase the stake and prize limits of gambling machines – a selfless gesture allowing you all the chance to win big.

Then, in 2014, he voted against giving local councils new laws to prevent the high street proliferation of new betting shops with fixed-odds betting terminals. Raab clearly understands that centralised government is what has kept the UK so strong and united!

Now, dear shopper, if you were the gambling sort – and with our free £10 offer there’s really no excuse – you should perhaps have a wee flutter on the English making Raab PM. It's obvious he's the only option to save Brexit, the union and, perhaps, democratic freedom itself. Lines are now open.

And finally ...

NOW you’re fully informed politically, we must note the presence of a few yellow sticker reduced items in your shopping today. Short of cash? Made a few poor choices on the Red72 Saturday Night Takeaway slot machine? Don’t worry, Ant & Dec are here to help.

One thing that we've learned from our new partnership with Santander is that they have very reasonable loan rates for new customers. So why not take a gamble and apply for a few grand? And remember, if you get knocked back and destroy your credit rating, there will always be plenty of out-of-date processed solids in the chucky-oot bin. And plenty of water in the tap!

But if by some chance your loan helps you win big on 32Red.com, remember you can replace that gambling serotonin hit by purchasing junk you don’t need. And when attempting to fill that black hole of existential despair with the hollow fruits of consumerism, we'd appreciate it if you'd consider Ant & Dec-approved brands such as Wispa Bites, Ambrosia Splat, McDonald’s, Sainsbury’s, Nintendo, Morrisons, Suzuki and M&S. We guarantee all our affiliated platforms boast exciting opportunities for spending your Ant & Dec slot machine winnings!