As imagined by Brian Beacom

RIGHT, that’s me. Out of politics for good, so I can now speak my mind freely. And I’ve learned lessons youse in Scotland need to listen to.

As the Northern Ireland First Minister, I know more about long divisions than my old maths teacher back in County Fermanagh. I know about the effects of nationalism, but I know mostly about how parties can destroy their ruler.

The DUP didn’t just stab me in back, I was stabbed in the front and, just for the hell of it, twice in the backside. Julius Caesar had less wounds than me. I’m now leaking more than Dominic Cummings.

This is what happens when you work with fundamentalists, like yourself, Nicola.

Now, the DUP hardliners are saying I should take the blame for Boris lying about promises not to have an Irish Sea border. As a farmer’s daughter, I should have been able to smell bulls*** at 100 yards.

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And maybe I shouldn’t have joked that Johnson was headed for the naughty step. But how could I say what I was really thinking – what I really wanted to do was shave his head, taser his testicles and dump him in a grain sack in the Falls Road?

Are you thinking the same about Alex, Nicola?

What’s also done for me is the abstaining on the vote to ban gay conversion therapy in Northern Ireland. I’ve become “too liberal”, so I have.

Well, you judge; I don’t support gay marriage, although I do respect everybody’s right to do what they like in the privacy of their own home, so long as the blinds are closed, the Bibles are drawered away – and the paintings of the Blessed Ian Paisley turned to the wall for fear he has to witness the sort of activity the Bible tells us is sinful.

Gosh, I have a little tear in my eye when I think back to his Save Ulster from Sodomy campaign.

But Ulster needs to move with the times, to heal divisions. That’s why I agreed to meet with the LGBT+ community, and a group representing loyalist paramilitaries, to discuss the Protocol.

Then I’m slammed for being too progressive. Watch out again, Nicola.

But tell me this; who was complaining when I progressed Theresa May out of a billion quid? Or when I managed to get Stormont closed over the mad fuel scheme that cost us millions and the subsequent fall out with Sinn Fein? And didn’t our MLAs still pick up three years of wages for doing sweet nothing.

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Jesus, Mary and the Wee Donkey, haven’t I done enough for this party? Oh, I do worry for the future. As the one who set up the Titanic exhibition centre, I know a sinking ship when I see one.

So, listen out nationalist Scotland. Don’t get smug. Re-join the EU and you’ll get a border harder than Popeye’s biceps. Forget what the unionists think and you’ll end up with troubles longer than Tony Blair’s mad hair.

I’d start wearing a flak jacket, Nicola. Just to be sure.

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