And 2 hours before the stage collapsed, I had a mad dream:
Small J Twotson and Kunst Wankula and
Sarghole of Dickwadd, and Loo Yapooloose prepared
to take the Daily Foil stage.
It’s prick pop 18.
A sea of thousands of white faces look out
the occasional dot of brown and black
most dressed in white
teeth gleaming white hands in the air
Waving teutonic symbols on flags
Wankula slithers up onto the stage first
his whisky cheeks bulging with vomit readymade
backstage by Loo.
Next the figure of Dickwad dressed
as the flabby Sultan of smug village with tiny printed
versions of himself badly ironed onto orange shorts
Small Joe was dressed up in full
military uniform, with a few stains around the crotch,
he launched Alex Jonesin’ brand tactical wet wipes
as if he psychically knew what was about to happen next
(stole from John Oliver)
Loo stepped up from behind his hair like a donut
iced with Vanilla drizzle, his shades jiggled around
and in that moment he suddenly resembled
every male teenage idol in western history,
Backstreetzone Biebergun Kelly.
Half the crowd jizzed in synch
catching it with the handy Al Jones wipe.
And the band were yet to start.
The first number was titled “Femministasi”
an all white male chorus of victim-techno
Gammonati music, like
“The PC left stole my kitten called Klaus”
“Where can I stroke my Unicorn now?”
Sarghole got down on his knees near the end of
the tune and drank from Wankula’s
water bottle singing “I suck”
Other notable musical abortions include
“Brokebuck Brexit Stomp”
“She’s a man now”
and “Immigrant Song” a new one
crafted by the four snakes while having tea with
Tubby Rubberneck.
Twotson gave out 14 kilos
of cafeine substitute (called Jonesin) to the crowd
they chomped it up like good little consumers.
Next a special guest appearance
J Peedhimself, doing an impression of Christopher
Lee while singing on the Prick Pop anthem
“Stairway To Oblivious”, a song about a bridge made of kippers
that enables a torrent of frog memes to slop
into the democratic sewer system
and infect humanity with a case of the stupids.
High on Jonesin, the crowd went rampant for Peed
and some pee’d their own pants laughing.
The brave scrambled over the fences to grab
more combat wet wipes and jizz another one off
before the song was over.
But it wasn’t over, for an encore,
out came the oldright all stirs
Morrissey came out, dancing, mumbling,
and fell down on Wankula injuring his forehead.
Rungo Stars came walking out, like an aged hobbit
his drum sticks were red and white.
Ned Poogent scuttled onto stage like a steroid accident,
his anger and smugness only matched
by Ulk Hogoon and Vanilla Ice.
Finally Sid Cock flies down from the roof dressed as missile
he raps on “All you need is hate”
the crowd echo their lines back at them:
“Start hating, start fighting, we need
freedom for our greed, for our greeeeeed’.
The band slowly fizzle out like a booze band
of washed up losers and youtube
celebrity shitbags.
The crowd vomiting and jizzing on each other
trading used wet wipes as souvenirs
the Jonesin formula turned out to be cut
with Pony prostate pills.
The happy fascists stop recording each other
and go home to watch Top Gear
(The line up for Prick Pop 18 includes the band
Clarkson Darkson, Infidel Shannon, Pantsterra
Misses PC, and The Ghost Of Jerry Fallwell.
Speakers include: Stevil Bannon, Nigel Mirrage
Bill The Swill Etherag, and Marine La Poison Pen.)
Get your tickets now, while your bile is still bubbling.
25% Off for Prick Pop Klan members.
DEEP SCRATCH 