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Somebody went somewhere once to get some concessions. He went home empty handed, and so thought it would be best to seek some advice. Having got fed up with asking the same close knit circle of friends and acquaintances what would be the best thing to do, he decided to widen the circle and ask everybody. When he found that the answer he got from the majority wasn't exactly the one he was hoping for, he chucked his hand in and left for sunnier climes. (Or at least, Rock, in Cornwall,) leaving the mess he had created to the next in line, (who wasn't actually the next in line because his preferred next in line had got himself several lucrative jobs apart from his full time occupation including the editorship of a London Evening newspaper.)
Anyway, somebody who had been hiding behind the sofa while all the arguments had been going on, someone who had been hoping for nothing much at all to happen, suddenly found herself in charge because she wasn't any of the other people who wanted to take over and had been very busy stabbing each other in the back. Declaring that business would carry on as usual, and that she would assemble a team of crack negotiators, she rounded up all the old has beens and cast offs from previous administrations, and told them to get on with it by activating a process called Article 50. She quite clearly stated that she didn't want a date with any man, because she actually had inherited a mandate and the job was hers for the next four years, and didn't see the need to ask for another date.
She then went for a long walk with her husband, and when she got home she said she did want a mandate after all, and called a General Election. (A General Election is a National Festival where different groups of people come over all sincere and thoughtful and tell loads of lies to the population at large. It happens every five years.) The whole voting population, including citizens of the Republic of Ireland then cast their votes, and hold their breath with crossed fingers, only to find the next morning that the same silly woman is still ensconced behind the shiny black door in London,(the one with the policeman waiting around outside trying not to look shifty,) and that cuddly old buffer with the straggly beard didn't win even though he thinks he did because he didn't lose all his Members of Parliament, (even though most of them don't actually like him very much.) So, she wrote a letter to the folks in Brussels to tell them that the good old United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland were going to be paddling their own canoe from now on, or at least in two years time, and although it had been tremendous fun slagging off the Eurocrats and their funny ways, the time had finally come to go our different ways, even though we still want to have a deep and abiding relationship with our neighbours even if they do "P" us off with their silly rules and regulations.
The arguments, I mean negotiations, have been progressing well despite not much being agreed upon, except that we may have to pay a lump sum so that we can finally jump ship and leave them to sail off on their own, while we zoom off to every other country and superstate and sign up loads of lucrative trade agreements and set our own tariffs and taxes and welcome all those French, Italian, Greek, Polish and German bankers to London to carry on their dealings with the rest of the World because the regulations and laws set by the Brusselscrats have made it impossible for them to continue because all their taxes were increased by 45% to make up for the hole in their finances when we stopped paying our exorbitant annual contributions.
In fact, the whole of the rest of Europe will want to join us in the new very prosperous "United Kingdom of Great Britain, Independent Scotland, Independent Wales, Northern Ireland, Eire and the Rest of Europe, including Russia."
All clear now?
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