It’s Question Time in the UK Houses of Parliament. Where the leader, and the leader of the opposition, try to catch each other out. It’s a pointless theatre for the common people. Few people tune in.

Opposition: Is it true you have fucked everything up?
Prime Minister: Fuck off.

O: You have raised the fucking taxes on all the poor fuckers who voted for you.
P (smugly): Go fuck yourself.

O: And given yourself a massive bonus, you old fucker.

Chorus of “fuck off”, “wanker” and “go fuck yourself” from the back benches.
​
Speaker: Shut the fuck up. Let the twat answer the question.
P (exasperated): For fucks sake get a grip. You fucking lost. We fucking won.

Cheering from the Government benches. Middle fingers raised and wanker gestures accompany a swelling chorus of “fuuuuuuuuck you”.

O: You are going to be so fucked when the next election comes.
P (confident): I will get a fuckton of votes you fucking pleb. You and your loser party are completely fucked. The people know who gives a shit about them, and they know who’s trying to fuck them over.

House degenerates into general swearing, banter and bickering. This is being televised live into homes across the country. And for once, people are tuning in to watch it. “Fuck me this is gold” is a typical household comment.

O (exasperated): When will you answer a proper fucking question you bastard?
P (assured): When you ask one you pile of fucking crap.
It’s the last question from the leader of the opposition. They are allowed six questions once a week. That’s British democracy.

O (with a flourish): Will you call a fucking election?
P: No. Now fuck off.

General uproar in House. Fists fly, papers are thrown. Best day ever.

This experiment in allowing the members of Parliament a chance to express their feelings more honestly proved a huge success. Public engagement rose. The media embraced it. They changed the name of Prime Minister’s Questions to Fucktard Answers the Twats. It ushered in a new age of democracy.