I say we put their petrol up to the some tax level as ours, should immobilise them pretty quickly.
A hushed breath of awe is heard as the conflict sees the first use of the ultimate weapon of mass indegestion, bring on the NHS ward assistants with state cooked hosptial patient food…oh the pity…oooh nurse!!
not forgetting the fearsome matron! So we need to recruit a Hattie Jacques sort of lady!
<tangent> What was that film (old, Ealing comedy sort of thing) that was based on a tiny little country that invaded the U.S.A., expecting to lose the war, but found no resistance at all 'cos the Merkins were all busy celebrating something? It had Margaret Rutherford in it, I seem to recall)
</tangent>
The Mouse That Roared. Peter Sellers movie, I love that one.
wolfman That’s it! Thanks awfully, old chap!
And didn’t they have some really wild and wonderful uniforms in that film? Please General Francesca may we have some funky uniforms too?
My fellow Americans, we have nothing to worry about. Remember, our sneaky British foes decided years ago to disarm themselves! They don’t stand a chance!
(although, if Francesca reads me poetry with that lovely voice and accent of hers, I might just surrender.)
Ah - foolish foreign person! “Our chief weapon is surprise … surprise and fear … fear and surprise … Our two weapons are fear and surprise … and ruthless efficiency”
oops - I think I might just have given away the secret! 
Perhaps no-one will notice!
Can you wear the red uniforms again, for old time’s sake?
Those were fabulous.
I am not a General of fashion. Our uniforms must be practical above all else, with plenty of pockets for Kendel mint cake and other such essentials. You may choose the colour and up to three accessories. Let it not be said that our forces are lacking in pockets or accessories.
Now then. I suggest as a tactical matter we say we’re from Boston. They’ll then be reluctant to claim our vowel sounds are suspicious.
Hey, I thought you guys were already in charge:
Notice of Revocation of Independence
:: taps tea spoon on side of bone china tea cup to call meeting to order ::
First of all, well done Francesca for coming up with such a whizz-o winning wheeze! Well done! Top marks!
:: polite applause all round, but nothing too enthusiastic as to be vulgar. Francesca blushes and gestures modestly as if to say it was nothing really, and tries to share the credit around equally ::
Secondly, I’d like to thank Mrs. Cheddar for providing such lovely tea and refreshments. These cucumber sandwiches really are delicious! Well done Mrs. C!
:: more polite applause all round and waggish comments about the sandwiches being the best part of coming to meetings like this!! ::
And so the business at hand. Now, first of all, let’s not have any more of this rot about being ‘out-numbered’. We may face a slight numerical disadvantage in some theatres of operations, I grant you. But I’ll wager one Tommy against any number of those damn Yanks any day of the week!
:: general ‘Hear hear!’ and ‘Hurrah!’ mutterings all round ::
Now, a quick overview of strategy. Vicar… would you mind? The slide projector? Thank you. And could you draw the curtains for us, Mrs. Miggles? Jolly good of you.
Yank culture: an Adam Sandler film recently topped the US box office.
Yank acting talent: Dick van Dyke’s accent in Mary Poppins.
Yank integrity: Watergate.
Yank justice: Ford ‘pardoning’ Nixon. The OJ Simpson verdict.
Yank celebrities: Monica Lewinsky, Richard Simmons.
Yank news and journalistic integrity: the National Enquirer
Yank ability to fight: Vietnam. Plus they hold a ‘World Series’ that only they play in. Or want to.
Yank nutrition: Twinkys, Big Mac, microwave popcorn.
Yank education: they think a hundred year old house is ‘historic’. Inability to spell simple words like ‘colour’.
Yank society: the gun laws! Ha ha chortle!
Yank sports: their football players don’t know the rules and are girlies who need padding. Baseball is just rounders for yet more girly men who need padding and who spit a lot.
Yank insecurity: they hold a ‘World Series’ that only they play in (or would want to).
Yank toughness: Tyson .v. Lewis!
The Second Wave. We open with a surprise strike of weapons-grade mature Stilton Cheese (yes, it’s nasty stuff, I know, but this is war, damn it!). We follow with more foodstuffs likely to overcome the enemy, or at the very least least puzzle him dreadfully. Spotted Dick. Pomfret cakes. Fig rolls. Lancashire hot pot. Faggots (!). Mushy peas. Newcastle brown ale. Smoky bacon crisps. Toasted teacakes. Fish and chips wrapped in a newspaper. Barm cakes. Haggis (we’ll allow the Celtic contribution). ‘Tiffin’ chocolate bars. Deep-fried Mars bar. Kendal Mint Cake. Mint imperials. Rice pudding with a skin on top. Cadburys creme eggs. Harveys Bristol Cream.
Having damaged their national pride and launched the opening salvo of offensive foodstuffs, we advance steadily with our teeth bared to show off our average state of dental care while simultaneously saying we’re proud of the National Health Service. This horrifies the enemy while also completely bewildering him.
We need to make the enemy drowsy. We do this by sending George Martin over to discuss exactly how each Beatles track was recorded. The simplest ways are often the best.
Combat. No escaping it. This could get rough.
First wave. A team of Millwall supporters, having told them the enemy just spilled their pint and called their girlfriends slags.
Second wave. A team of Yorkshire Sunday-league rugby fullbacks, telling them the enemy just called them ‘a bunch of puffs’.
Third wave. A crack squad of little old ladies armed with umbrellas and large handbags, having told them the enemy thinks they don’t deserve free bus passes.
Fourth wave: A squadron of bespectacled civil servants with toothbrush moustaches and names like ‘Norris’, having told them the enemy has recently failed to file their council tax forms with the appropriate local authority.
Fifth wave: A bunch of Liverpool dock workers, having told them that they can keep anything they can nick.
This uncomprominig assault should certainly result in outright victory. If all else fails, and strictly as a last resort, we undo the steel restraints, take off the hockey mask, permit access to The Handbag and send in…
Sixth wave: Margaret Thatcher. (Having first told her the enemy thinks some of her policies may have been misguided).
That concludes the plan. Thank you to the vicar for his slide projector. Mrs. Miggles,… the curtains? Thank you so much.
Now, what shall we do with the country once we have reclaimed it? I welcome your suggestions. I’ll start the ball rolling. Alaska: this will be emptied, and then we can put Ken Livingstone, John Birt and Mandy Mandelson right in the middle where they can’t do any harm.
More Early Grey anyone?
Ianzin,
that sums it all up perfectly.
Jolly good show!
You know, having just innocently stumbled across this nefarious plot and being that I’m a federal employee sworn to defend against enemies foreign and domestic and other claptrap like that there I’m afraid I’m duty-bound to turn y’all in. Nothing personal.
Of course…
if some kind soul could divert some nice tea my way, say some high-grade Keemun or Assam, Darjeeling perhaps and of course the elixir of life Earl Grey and throw in some Aynsley china teacups with matching saucers I might be persuaded to look the other way…
Well dwyr, speaking as a General who’s not averse to a little how’s your father, if you should happen to be in Boston harbour at, say 4.30pm on Saturday and a crate of tea just happened to be standing around and you were to see it and feel that perhaps you ought to take it home for further inspection, well then no one could say anything about that. Say no more nudge nudge wink wink a nod’s as good as a wink to a blind bat.
I feel Ianzin gave a marvellous presentation and would like to heartily second his motions. That combat plan is really second to none, although I would like to propose that precations be taken with the Sixth Wave. If we’re going to take her over there ourselves, we’re going to have to find a muzzle for the trip.
Mrs Miggles, those antimacassers really do brighten up the room. Are they M & S?
Ideas for what to do once we’ve shown the blighters a thing or two:
[ul]
[li]Close down all Liptons factories. Introduce bill stipulating all tea must include milk but just a drop so that any elderly lady may, at any time in any place, be able to say “you could trot a mouse on that”.[/li]
[li]Less ice. No ice given automatically. All drinks served at room temperature with the exception of certain beers and fine wines.[/li]
[li]All people named “Chuck” immediately renamed “Edward” or “William”.[/li][/ul]
The floor is open for further suggestions.
I just came back in from running out to the store.
There are people out there at picnics eating crumpets, and drinking tea! I saw people carrying umbrellas! Folks were driving on the wrong side of the road!
What the hell is going on?
Quick, someone get me a hotdog!
Tris
Whoo hoo!
if you’re eliminating Liptons I’m definitely down with that.
And I always take my tea with milk and two sugars, thanks.
[sup]Why, look! A crate of tea out in the open like that, it’s not safe. Someone could trip and hurt themselves, better get it out of the way…[/sup]
[QUOTE]
*Originally posted by Francesca *
[li]Close down all Liptons factories. Introduce bill stipulating all tea must include milk but just a drop so that any elderly lady may, at any time in any place, be able to say “you could trot a mouse on that”.[/li][/QUOTE]
I’m not 100% sure about that one William Lipton was from the right end of the pond, after all.
Over many years I have built up a fifth column in South Canada. When Her Majesty’s reconquering armies break out from their beachheads (in camouflaged double- decker buses) they will be greeted by banners proclaiming:
‘‘Oh hello, so nice of you to drop in’’
and
‘‘Well of course we always thought that monarchy is the best form of government, but we did’nt say so because we did’nt want to upset anyone’’
Happy Birthday USA
Pennsylvania is ours! Having cleverly re-programmed all newspaper computers in the state to add lots of extra u’s and done a bit of saturation bombing of sausage rolls and eccles cakes, I can safely say that the late prime minister, Mr. Penn’s woods have returned to Mr. Penn’s country. Lipton tea has also been surreptitiously replaced with real tea. The ensuing shock contributed greatly to conquering the state. The last pockets of resistance were weeded out with the threats of spotted dick and haggis. Only one of them had the guts to ask what’s in haggis. He actually said “Sounds good” before being beaten to death by his horrified country men.
Unfortunately, the local baseball team are proving no better at cricket than they did at baseball. Equally unfortunately, some of the easier-to-conquer types have already been heard to yell “Go Tim.”
I’m awaiting my pay in Cadbury’s. What? You don’t want this state? It’s a bit big to throw back! 
CJ
The poor Candians. Forgotten yet again. And they even won the whole shebang back-to-back just 10 years ago.