The Plastic Hippo

January 10, 2017


Filed under: Fiction,Health,Media,Politics,Science — theplastichippo @ 2:05 am
Tags: , , , ,
The 4077th

The 4077th

The family and sycophants of an 85 year old newlywed have expressed their disappointment after medical tests have confirmed that the vindictive media tycoon continues to enjoy the rudest of health. Complaining of “a pain in the arse”, octogenarian Rupert Murdoch was rushed to the private Leveson wing of the Richard Branson Memorial Hospital and Cash Converter Superstore where teams of specialist doctors checked Mr Murdoch`s credit rating.

After a shameful wait on a trolley for more than 10 seconds before the £20million scanner recognised his Platinum American Express card, Mr Murdoch underwent a full Positron Emission Tomography scan which involved injecting radioactive glucose into the patient`s blood stream. However, the patient`s blood proved to be so toxic that the glucose was instantly absorbed and converted into sulphuric acid which damaged a Chippendale chaise longue and a Persian carpet in the media magnets £10,000 a day private hospital suite. Mercifully discharged, the world`s cultural guardian complained that the Dom Perignon was too warm, the foie gras lacked the taste of cruelty and the Picasso on the wall did not have any bare breasts.

The scan revealed an aggressive parasitic growth as being the cause of the discomfort and the tumour was later identified as Jeremy Hunt who was discovered to be hiding in Mr Murdoch`s lower colon. Expert clinicians extracted the Secretary of State for Health using the routine procedure of waving a brown envelope full of money in the general direction of Mr Murdoch`s bottom. Clearly a cabinet minister of the calibre of Jeremy Hunt cannot be expected to work seven days a week and so it was not until Monday morning that Mr Hunt was displayed on a Petri dish to avoid questions regarding the crisis facing the National Health Service, his systematic underfunding of hospitals so that they have become unworkable and how his long-term plan to destroy public health is going rather well thank you very much. Appropriately enough, Hunt and his clueless boss took to promoting unfunded mental health platitudes as a smoke screen to cover a heady mix of incompetence and malice. Strange that both he and Theresa May were part of a government that cut funding for mental health and when belatedly offering a pittance forgot to ring fence the money allowing NHS Trusts to use it to patch up underfunded A and E provision.

Such is the accuracy of current medical science that the Positron Emission Tomography scan conducted on Rupert Murdoch provided several further surprising results. Former Health Secretary Andrew now Baron Lansley was thought to be hiding in the House of Lords but he has, in fact, been hiding in Jeremy Hunt`s lower colon. Unfortunately, extraction has not been possible and he remains firmly wedged in Mr Hunt`s rectum. Hopes are fading for NHS England Chief Executive Simon Stevens who, it seems has taken up residence in the lower portion of Andrew Lansley`s alimentary canal and test results on predecessor Sir David Nicholson who was responsible for the Mid Staffs disaster and the suicides of vulnerable patients with his “care in the community” social cleansing initiative have concluded that he is hiding in the lower colon of his successor. Medical science cannot penetrate further as Sir David Nicholson has been classified as 100 per cent arsehole. Other health professionals cannot, as yet, ascertain what or who is wedged up Nicholson`s sphincter but some experimental researchers have suggested an existential probability that it might actually be himself.

By the grace of almighty God, Her Britannic Majesty Queen Elizabeth II seems to be recovering from a cold. In a remarkable demonstration of courage and fortitude, our beloved monarch has regained her health without the need to wait three weeks for a GP appointment or the inconvenience of being dumped on a trolley for 10 hours in a corridor at an overwhelmed A and E department before dying. Legions of 90 year-olds having paid tax and national insurance for the bulk of their lives will, no doubt, cherish this final memory of their earthly existence.

As a sensible precaution, a specially converted Virgin Health Care Airbus 380 has been deployed to RAF Northolt for the exclusive use of Rupert Murdoch. Complete with a standard size swimming pool, putting green, stabling for four polo ponies and several “specialist” nurses, the air ambulance stands at 24 hour readiness to transport Mr Murdoch to a Dignitas clinic in Switzerland where he will receive the treatment he really needs and truly deserves.

Jeremy Hunt now flushed with success as public enema number one and a complete number two has announced that there is no NHS crisis apart from the NHS crisis brought about by irresponsible people becoming wilfully unwell and placing undue strain on the NHS. Obviously a four hour wait in casualty is too good for the peasants bleeding to death after an unfortunate coming together with a racist, homophobic rapist reader of the Murdoch tabloid so the plebs will just have to man up or die. When a Health Secretary describes terminally patients and vulnerable senior citizens as bed blockers and questions the need for A and E provision, then it becomes obvious that the lapel badge on Jeremy Hunt`s expensive suit stands for Nasty, Hunt and Shit.

We can only hope that this pathetic excuse for humanity will do us all a favour follow the reptilian Murdoch to the great gig in the sky via the medium of lethal injection. But then, that might be considered as being too harsh a judgement.

Maybe a shared society would be a better way forward than a government that runs away from responsibility and, then again, it might be better to allow Jeremy Hunt and his ilk to discover that, like so many of their victims, suicide is seldom painless.


  1. firmly wedged in Mr Hunt`s rectum brilliant

    Comment by davidh936 — January 10, 2017 @ 9:00 pm | Reply

  2. The Hippo is, for once, partly mistaken. I had the misfortune of meeting Hunt.

    Although wearing a very nice suit, he had no discernible vital organs, including a rectum. I can only assume that, in order to demonstrate some sort of solidarity with the plight of the elderly and aged, he had kindly gifted them to an aging Antipodean pensioner.

    In fairness, the rectum might have gone to Mid Staffs. After careful treatment in a Petrie dish, who knows what might have happened?

    Comment by The Realist — January 11, 2017 @ 11:03 am | Reply

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