The Prime Minister announced on Wednesday that Gary Piggott, a former doorman from Wolverhampton, has been appointed to the House of Lords. 'He knows how to handle a queue,' the PM said. Twat. Piggott, 57, once refused entry to a vicar for wearing sandals, and has a black belt in 'conflict resolution by folding your arms'. His first words in the chamber were: 'You're not coming in dressed like that.' The benches fell silent. I have been watching this country go to the dogs since 1982, and I know a bouncer when I see one. The difference is, the old ones were content to stand outside a nightclub. Now they are being handed the keys to the whole bloody country.
The Bill to Keep the Nation in Order
Piggott's bill, formally titled the 'Public Attendance (Suitability) Bill', requires every public event, from village fete to state funeral, to have a designated doorman with the power to refuse entry. The criteria for refusal are vague: 'not in the mood', 'looks like trouble', 'has a face that doesn't fit'. The bill passes its second reading with a majority of 214. Lord Featherstone, a crossbencher and former chief constable, said: 'I've seen men turned away for less. It's about standards.' Pillock. The bill is now heading to the Commons, where MPs are reportedly 'scared to object' for fear of being barred from their own tearoom.
The Great Bouncer Shortage
Within a fortnight, the country realises there are not enough bouncers to cover every event. The government launches a recruitment drive, targeting 'experienced individuals with a firm handshake and a low tolerance for nonsense'. Among the new recruits is 74-year-old Brenda Hargreaves from Doncaster, who previously worked as a lollipop lady and once made a grown man cry by telling him his coat was 'a waste of a good sheep'. Brenda is assigned to a garden party at the Home Office. She turns away the Home Secretary, Priti Patel's successor, for wearing brown shoes with a navy suit. 'Rules are rules,' she said. 'And you're not a proper person.' Total wanker, but she had a point. The Home Secretary, humiliated, orders a review into 'door policy across the nation'.
The Review and the Lay-by Solution
The review, chaired by Lord Piggott himself, concludes that the problem is not the bouncers but the lack of places where people can 'cool off' after being refused entry. It recommends the construction of 2,000 new lay-bys, each with a sign reading 'For Refusals Only'. The Home Secretary, desperate to save face, approves the plan. At the unveiling of the first lay-by, near Didcot, Piggott said: 'This is where you go when you've been told no. You sit in your car, you think about what you've done, and you wait for the headlights to go off.' He was not joking. I was there, in the old car park at Didcot, and I have never felt more at home.
A New Minister for Doorways
Piggott is promoted to Minister for Doorways, a brand new role with responsibility for 'the nation's thresholds'. His first act is to launch a consultation on the reintroduction of the one-pound note, because 'cash is the only thing that tells you if someone is worth letting in'. The consultation paper is 400 pages long and includes a section on 'the correct way to fold your arms'. At the press conference, a journalist asked if the government was 'taking the piss'. Piggott looked at him, said 'You're not coming in dressed like that', and had him removed. The journalist was later found waiting in the lay-by near Didcot, with his headlights off. He is still there, and I suspect he will be there for a long time. The country has finally found a leader who understands that everything, from the economy to the weather, is just a question of who you let through the door.
