Something to chew on... DT this morning
The mob tried to silence Jacob Rees-Mogg. But then he did something that stumped them
At first, the protesters must have thought it was going like clockwork. They’d managed to dodge past security, burst into the hall where the Tory scum were gathered, and brought their nasty little meeting to a standstill.
“TORIES OUT! TORIES OUT!” chanted the protesters, at the top of their lungs. “TORIES OUT! TORIES OUT!”
Conservative party members swung round in consternation, and stared helplessly at the intruders. No one seemed to know what to do.
The protesters chanted triumphantly on. The brass neck of these Tories – thinking they could swan into
Manchester, socialist Manchester, and just sit there, bold as you like, slapping each other on the back over Brexit and austerity and killing the poor. Well, this would show them. The Tories had been comprehensively silenced. The protest was a total success.
Then, however, one of the protesters made a mistake. He ran towards
Jacob Rees-Mogg.
“Shame on you, Jacob Rees-Mogg!” he bawled. “Tories out!”
The MP for North East Somerset looked up – and then did something the protester hadn’t bargained for.
He spoke to him.
“Hello,” said Mr Rees-Mogg pleasantly. “What would you like to ask me?”
For a moment the protester appeared utterly thrown. Far from looking frightened or angry, this hateful Tory toff was chatting to him as calmly as if they were standing in a queue at the Post Office.
The protester recovered his composure, and scowled. “You’re not welcome here!” he spat. “Get out!”
Mr Rees-Mogg tried again. “What do you disagree with me about?” he asked.
“Everything,” snorted the protester.
Mr Rees-Mogg nodded understandingly. He had the air of a doctor attempting to reassure a distressed patient. “Mention something specific,” he suggested.
“Abortion rights, women’s rights, austerity,” spluttered the protester. “Everything. You’re a despicable person.”
“Well, we may disagree on things,” said Mr Rees-Mogg equably, “but just because you disagree with somebody, that doesn’t make them a bad person. The two are separate.”
The protester goggled. Mr Rees-Mogg’s politeness seemed to infuriate him all the more.
“You’re ruining people’s lives!” he shouted.
“I don’t agree with that,” said Mr Rees-Mogg, with a frown of concern. “We have the lowest rate of unemployment since the 1970s. Employment historically has always been the best route out of poverty.”
The protester purpled. “That’s absolutely not true!” he spluttered. “That is a categorical lie! You’re a despicable person!”
“Let’s leave my despicability to one side,” said Mr Rees-Mogg soothingly. “What’s important is to have a conversation. [But] I think the audience want [the meeting] to continue.”
“I couldn’t care less! They all hold the same views [as you]!”
“Well,” said Mr Rees-Mogg gently. “Very nice to have met you.”
And with that, at long last, the man and his fellow protesters were led muttering from the hall. The audience rapturously applauded.
Seemingly oblivious, Mr Rees-Mogg turned, adjusted his tie, and resumed his seat, as if nothing had happened.
