PMQs - PLUS CA CHANGE...

The Chamber was packed as usual with the Speaker's Chair replaced by a set of stocks in which the Great Man was sat looking like the man whose blind date turned out to be Sharon Osborne. Rotten tomatoes slid gently off his person and a cabbage sat on his head. The House was filled with the acrid smell of bank statements and receipts being burnt on makeshift bonfires.

Doug Elghorn (Expenses-on-the-Moat South Central) asked the Prime Minister if he agreed that his luxury yacht could be considered a legitimate expense for visiting residents in his Midlands constituency. The Prime Minister began to sob quietly as he rose and responded that all such matters would be considered by one of the array of new committees he planned to set up to ensure that MPs' expenses were looked into rigorously and that appropriate action could be taken at a suitable point once some other poor sod had the responsibility for the problem.

The Other Poor Sod duly rose, his brow furrowed like a newly ploughed field in the Spring frost in his Witney constituency. His gaze set to more earnest than Jeremy Paxman squeezing one out after a 14 day diet of eggs, Dave asked the Prime Minister if he truly repented of all his sins and the sins of his party. David Davis, dressed in his usual sackcloth and ashes, began to glow perceptibly.

The Prime Minister responded that yea, verily he did and that all MPs must atone and prepare for the day of judgement, which approacheth sometime next year. Harriet Harman was heard to suppress a snort as she flicked through a Civil Service brochure of 'Opposition Leader's cars'.

Dave rose again, brandishing a small ceremonial whip which he proceeded to flail across his back as he asked his second question: would the Prime Minister bring forth the day of judgement to this year so that, verily, they could all be judged now. Gordon, brandishing a small cat o' nine tails, set about his own back as he replied that he might look stupid [loud murmers of approval around the Chamber] but he wasn't quite ready to jump into his own grave. Instead the whole House should repent, repent! He glared at the Speaker, who sighed, absent-mindedly picking an old orange from his coat.

Hazel Blears stood up and, in a display of atonement, attempted to decapitate herself with a hand axe. Being shorter than the outcome of a coupling between a munchkin and an oompa loompa, even she misjudged where her head was and missed by a mile. Her axe instead buried itself in Ed Balls but, given that he is securely encased in several feet of his own ego, he remained unharmed.

Dave, setting about his head with a cosh to show due humility, said the people of Britain wanted to judge MPs now and that they should consequently surrender to the will of the people, on the strict understanding that this was his position at the moment but that further revelations may make the Tories' poll rating go up or down, at which point he would like to revise his demands. The Tory benches commended him for coming as close as he ever had to making a concrete commitment. Gordon was raised to the dispatch box on a makeshift rack fashioned from order papers which loyal minions – aided by a gleeful Harriet Harman – were tightening. As he screamed in pain, he thanked them and reminded the leader of the opposition that no one on the Labour benches had a moat [a few Labour MPs of the old school attempted to correct him but were beaten down soundly by their colleagues] and that Dave might seek to get his own house in order first before seeking the judgement of the electorate. He added a 'yea' and a 'verily' on the end for good measure. David Davis sat carving two tablets of stones with what seemed to be 'commandments'.

Dave, his hands tied and his feet being beaten with paddles, repeated his demand for an early election. The British People should have the opportunity to decide on the future of the House as MPs had let them down. At this point onions were brandished by the Tory benches and they began to sob in unison, with the exception of Ken Clarke who reached for what looked like a hip flask.

Gordon rose, his best cat's behind pout on his face and wearing a mail overcoat which loyal minions were applying wires to from a car battery. He replied between shrieks of pain that the Right Honourable Gentleman would do well to remember his upbringing and to avoid any statements about unnecessary expenses which he might come to regret. Many MPs struggled to survive on their salaries and they needed support to afford items to support them in their second homes. Sir Peter Viggers was heard to agree, complaining audibly about the cost of a floating duck island. He was later carried out and is expected to make a full recovery, although he may never speak again – if he knows what's good for him...

Keith Vaz rose and asked the Prime Minister if he would join him in celebrating the fact that the dodgy MP for Leicester was for once not implicated in any scandal. The Prime Minister said it was indeed a shocker but that he was sure that the wealth of sleaze associated with Mr Vaz would eventually find its way to the media sluices.

At this point Joanna Lovely burst into the Chamber, flanked by several embarrassed Nepalese gentlemen. She glared at the Prime Minister and demanded that he allow the Gurkhas and their families to live in Britain. A number of Tories threw flowers at her feet and several proposed marriage. Ms Lovely, ever the consummate professional, glared on.

Gordon gawped, attempted to speak, faltered, then caved in, to rousing applause from the House, more roses and a number of further proposals. One Conservative ran from the benches to prostrate himself in front of Ms Lovely, declaring his undying love. He had to be hauled back to his place by embarrassed colleagues, some of whom took the opportunity to touch Ms Lovely's clothes. David Davis looked on, nonplussed at not being the semi-religious object of respect on this occasion.

Ms Lovely gave them all 'that look', screamed her war cry “Will there be cameras?!” and trooped out. Some of the Nepalese remained in the Chamber, not sure what to do. Eventually, they sat with the Nationalists, secure in their mutual incomprehension of each other.

Then it was Nickers' turn. He stood up, naked but for a loin cloth, being beaten with birch twigs by his colleagues – well, we are Liberals, after all. Looking earnest, tearful and bloody angry all at the same time, Nickers asked the Prime Minister if he agreed that the whole thing was shocking and wasn't he outraged and generally fed up. The Prime Minister, slightly bemused, agreed.

Nickers said that he did too and pledged that the Liberal Democrats would pay for the trouser press Chris Huhne had bought on expenses and promised action to ensure that when the next scandal breaks the Lib Dems would have something a bit more interesting to be revealed than just a bloody trouser press. Andrew George attempted to speak but a swift punch to the groin from Lynne Featherstone put paid to that. Nickers continued that he had set up a 'Moat' commission to look into this and promised action to become as sleazy as the Tories, although accepting that it would take decades to achieve their standard.

Gordon Brown couldn't think of anything to say so he restricted himself to pouring a bucket of slurry over the Speaker's head to rousing applause.

Ann Widdecombe then rose and actually made sense. All these years in Parliament spouting pseudo-religious tosh and this time she actually made sense. She reminded the Prime Minister that MPs should be paid more so that they didn't need to claim expenses and asked him to ensure that this was looked at. The House sat in silence as they marvelled as Ms Widdecombe's foray into 'the real world'. Eventually Gordon Brown replied that this was a very sensible suggestion and that in consequence his government would have to mangle it out of all recognition as he would be damned if anything practical came out of this whole debacle. A murmur of assent spread across the Chamber as MPs pretended to busy themselves with their Blackberries.

As the Prime Minister sat down the Speaker rose with some difficulty, his robes soiled and torn and the stocks he was locked into now forming a bizarre set of anklets. With his legs akimbo he presented a more formidable figure than he has managed to do for some years. He raised his hand in defiance and began to speak but the weight of the stocks carried him forwards so that he finished up prone between the clerks in front of him. Ken Clarke was heard to remark that this was the furthest he had moved on any issue since being elected to the exalted position.

David Davis leapt to his feet, having donned his best Charlton Heston beard and brandishing his now completed tablets with his 'commandments'. He demanded that the House repent and surrender itself to God while there was still time. Dave glared at him for making such a clear statement on anything, which simply wasn't what the modern Conservative Party was about under his leadership. Everyone else ignored him.

Finally, Lembit Opik rose, his harmonica on hold and his cheeky grin absent as he contemplated his next foray into the media. Katie Price would be single soon, he mused...He regained himself and asked Gordon whether he expected reforms of Parliament to be in place this year. Gordon responded that he had been advised that a cooler period in Hades might occur and following this extraordinary event he expected firm action immediately. Ed Vaizey looked blank at this but luckily a neighbour was on hand to explain that reform would occur when Hell froze over.

The Speaker called 'Ordure, Ordure' and the session ended with MPs emptying out into the corridors of the House to sell any spare nick nacks they could to waiting spivs in an attempt to repay countless claims they could not justify in a month of Sundays.

[Etc, etc, ad nauseum until the end of time. Mark my words...]