Nigel Farage | i n s e c t i n s i d e

The flies are beginning to emerge from the wheelie bin in Lydd. One overly ambitious fungus gnat, named The Truss, is already waiting on the far right of the lid to spout her hate to anyone who happens to be flying by. Those maggots yet to metamorphose continue to feast within the bin, their appetites undeterred by The Truss’s antics. Among the remnants of discarded waste, they have found sustenance in a lettuce, the wilting vegetable that had outlasted her short 49-day tenure as Prime Minister.

Drawing inspiration from her hero, Maggot Thatcher, The Truss meticulously cultivates an image reminiscent of the former Prime Minister, from her demeanour to posing for photographs atop various unsavoury heaps, be it landfill sites or compost bins or the grass verges where people walk their dogs. Though diminutive in stature, her presence exudes an aura of insignificance, a testament to her desperate pursuit of influence.

Beneath this faux facade of power and prestige, The Truss remains an abhorrent figure to the worms entrenched in the compost below. They bear the scars of her past economic policies, which left them destitute when their compost bins were emptied in the name of progress. As she resurfaces with renewed ambition, they squirm angrily, questioning why she wasn’t squashed for the havoc she wreaked upon their livelihoods.

Her aspirations seem limitless as she aims to spread her messages of animosity far and wide. Known for her penchant for posturing and her apparent belief that soundbites could substitute for sound economic policy, The Truss has rebranded herself as a PopCon, taking a swipe at anyone who doesn’t see the world through her very narrow compound eyes. Her delusions of grandeur knew no bounds when she ventured across the pond to hobnob with the likes of Nigel Fraaage and Donald Dump, to complain her tenure as Prime Minister was “sabotaged” by the “administrative state and the deep state,” “wokenomics”, and boldly announcing that environmentalists are the new Communists… On and on she trilled, much to the bewilderment of the moderate observers of the ecosystem who see her as a fly in the ointment for democracy.

As she incessantly flutters about in a frenzy of self-importance, the only ones genuinely captivated are the few insects who inhabit her realm, who will hopefully be swatted into oblivion at the next election.

In a wheelie bin in Lydd, there lived a rather odd maggot named Nigel Fraaage. Nigel was no ordinary maggot; he had a penchant for wriggling into the most controversial places and stirring up a storm in the garbage heap of politics.

Nigel was born in the compost bin of conservatism, surrounded by the decaying remnants of outdated ideologies. From a young age, he showed an uncanny ability to thrive in the filthiest corners of political discourse. His ambition was as boundless as the landfill he called home.

Nigel had a talent for convincing other maggots that the best way to address their problems was to blame it all on the bluebottles. “Those flies are taking away our opportunities to feast on the rubbish of our choice!” he’d exclaim, his maggoty followers nodding in agreement, utterly oblivious to their own inevitable transformation into flies.

Fraaage’s rise to prominence was fuelled by his ability to tap into the fears and insecurities of his fellow larvae. He promised them a utopia where they could freely devour whatever putrid thoughts they desired without interference from insects in the ‘Woke Brigade’. His rallying cry echoed through the compost bin: “Let’s Make Garbage Great!”

His uncharismatic speeches were not without their share of controversies. He once claimed that the decline in compost quality was due to the influx of earthworms taking up space that rightfully belonged to maggots. He proposed sending the worms back to where they came from, conveniently omitting the fact that worms play a vital role in breaking down the compost and enriching the soil.

As Nigel gained popularity, he attracted a swarm of loyal supporters who hung on to his every wriggle. They proudly donned “Reform the Compost Bin” t-shirts and waved Union Jacks adorned with slogans like “Maggots First.” They pretended not to see him eat a fellow maggot for a vast sum of money on his foray into the jungle on ‘I’m a Celebrity…’, proving just how insincere his feelings towards his supporters really is.

However, Nigel’s grand plans to rule the compost bin were thwarted when a group of enlightened woodlice exposed the flaws in his agenda and highlighted the importance of diversity in the ecosystem. The compost bin inhabitants, finally realising that blaming the flies or the worms was not the solution, turned their attention to creating a more inclusive and sustainable environment.

And so Nigel, defeated yet again, wriggled back into the shadows from where he came, leaving behind a cautionary tale about the dangers of following a maggot with a misguided agenda. But beware, as the climate heats up and the mountain of garbage grows ever bigger, the political wriggling will only become more pronounced.