Earlier this month, Manchester became home to perhaps the most joyous and spectacular event since the last time an Avanti West Coast train arrived on time to Manchester Piccadilly (approximately nine and a half years ago): the Conservative Party Conference.
The party seemed to attract an older crowd with only a handful of delegates under the age of 30 being able to attend this year’s extravaganza (all of whom appeared to hail from the Exeter University Conservatives Association), but the fun truly started when the main man himself arrived.
Striding from his sedan and being constantly followed by his fandom of political nerds, the man who simply oozes charisma and leadership waltzed into the conference hall: Nigel Farage himself arrived. Straggling behind him was another slighter, smaller and unnoticed fellow. When security stopped him because he wasn’t wearing his conference pass. Those around the fracas heard him cry out his name as if it was meant to contain any significance. Rishi something?
Anyway, with the Prime Minister seemingly AWOL, Farage bravely took it upon himself to get step in and get the party truly buzzing by giving the keynote speech. In characteristic laddish charm, he announced the immediate destruction of all train lines and stations to encourage the use of cars. The scrap from this would be used to set up machine gun turrets on the white beaches of Dover to truly stop the boats, among other priorities.
Farage chose to unwind after the long day by dancing the night away to Franki Valli along with Priti Patel. Outside in the rain was that poor Rishi fellow waiting for his train back to London, defeated. His train had been delayed for three hours, hopefully it should only be another two to go now.
