We were Russian agents all along, admit your Brexiter parents

YOUR elderly parents have admitted they only voted for Brexit because they have been in the pay of Russia for 40 years, and your real surname is Denisovich. 

After the prime minister told a podcast that Russia interfered with the Brexit referendum, you called your parents only for them to confirm they are Soviet-era sleeper agents who have been living under false identities since 1983.

Your mother said: “I’m just glad the truth is out, dear. For the last decade everyone’s believed the horrible smear that we voted to leave because we’re racist.

“No, what actually happened was we’ve been here in Buntingford since being transferred from Moscow by Andropov, to infiltrate the British state. That’s why your father was so high up in the Rotary Club that he was their Santa for a record 17 years.

“They didn’t give us any specific guidelines on how to subvert the West after Andropov died and the Soviet era ended, so we sort of extended our tendrils into instruments of the state by signing up for an allotment and doing am-dram.

“Anyway, you could have knocked us down with a feather in 2016 when our secret radio crackled into life and it was Putin, telling us to vote leave and push for a no-deal Brexit to weaken the EU and destabilise NATO! We were so pleased. It’s nice to feel useful.

“No hard feelings love, it’s just that capitalism is a dehumanising system designed to reduce the individual to a cog in a consumerist machine. Yes, I know we grounded you when you said that at sixth form, but that was for cover.”

She added: “Are you coming over on Sunday? Your dad’s doing a leg of lamb.”

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Stunned team staggers out of two-hour meeting with no clue what happened in there

A TWO-HOUR Monday morning meeting has ended with all participants drained, shaken and unable to explain what went on. 

Boss Tom Booker sent a calendar invite last week for a ninety minute ‘team huddle’, which was later extended by half an hour for reasons unclear either on the invite or, according to survivors, in the actual meeting.

Dazed facilities manager Emma Bradford, gulping down a black coffee, said: “What the f**k was that?

“I know there was an agenda at the start, and someone must have been taking notes, but I cannot tell you who or why or what about. All I know is that within 20 minutes up was down, black was white and I was barely clinging to my sanity.

“I went in there with a pretty decent idea of what my role is, I think. Now I can barely remember my own name. Was I fired? Am I meant to be doing something now? Has lunch already happened or not?”

Booker said: “I know my team, and they can’t stand quick one-on-one chats or briefing emails. They really function best in a large group, where we cover a lot of ground and everyone gets a chance to speak, especially me.

“I hope they feel like it was sufficiently detailed. We’ll reconvene late on Friday afternoon to pick up where we left off. I’m sure all of the points from the last meeting will have been actioned. Even if I’m a little vague on what they were.”