Pop supergroup Pink Floyd are preparing to release a new pop record, with guest singer Dave Cameron, the new Conservative Party leader.
I was one of a select group of journalists invited to Pink Floyd’s singer, Ponsonby Ponsonby-Smythe’s, mansion in Quorn, Leicestershire at the weekend for the press launch. We were heralded into the 240 foot long lounge where Ponsonby (76), Quentin Ricketts (91 - drummer) and Wellington Wellinton-Waffle (85 - long cloaks, poses, triangle) were joined by Dave (21), the new leader of Britain’s moribund Tory Party. They shared a huge chaise longue, draped with gold leafed batik and cushions the size of chav’s tumours.
‘We’re like, making a er pop toon,’ said Ponsonby through clouds of heroin smoke. ‘My father’s hired a studio and I’ve written a great song called Post Constructionist Spoilt Boy man ...’
Wellington and Quentin nodded in agreement, whilst their every needs were being attended to by a group of naked ladies who lunch.
‘It’s like man,’ added Dave (21), ‘we’re like blown away, it’s psychedelic and grooved up. I love these guys. They’re cool, like, you know?’
Ponsonby suddenly produced a shotgun from under his glittering cloak and took aim at a fox that was running across the lawn.
‘Got the fellow!’ he announced, dropping back into the chaise with a grin on his face.
‘So what is the song about?’ I asked.
‘It’s like about er post constructionist spoilt boys man. Their angst and stuff like that,’ posited Quentin, whilst injecting piping hot pure heroin directly into his frontal lobes.
‘Gimme some of that,’ laughed Dave, as he snatched the empty hypodermic.
‘Like the real struggle yeah to sort of er make something of one’s life against the military-industrial complex like,’ added Wellington as he tucked into a steaming platter full of garlic magic mushrooms.
‘We’re going to use it in our next Party Political Broadast,’ said Dave, toying with the hypodermic, but not inhaling.
‘It’ll appeal to everyone man,’ said Wellington. ‘Middle-class parents, their children.’
‘Their grandparents,’ added Quentin. ‘Everyone man. Even my mum likes it, and she’s 101.’
We were then played a copy of the pop song, woken up and ushered out of the lounge. The final words I heard as I was bundled out of the door was Dave shouting ‘Drug abuse is, like, real cool yeah’.
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