LONDON – It’s official, there are no professional politicians left to run the country; zilch, zero, none. There is no Speaker of the House, no Justice Minister, no Transport Minister, no disgruntled backbencher, no Web-Cameron, no Gordon Broon, no nobody.

The ongoing expenses scandal has one-by-one engulfed MPs from all parties and from all ranks. Not one of our elected officials has shown any reasonable degree of Cromwellian rectitude; the cynics mantra that they are all bad is not nonsense.

Once upon a time they were the landed-gentry of society; honest figures that appeared on laminated posters upon young boys walls. But now, with their earnings slipping below that of city bankers, family doctors, London-Lite distributors, and internet start-up bloggers, MPs have been almost-forcibly seduced by their expenses accounts, as a means to supplement their “below the bread-and-caviar-line” incomes.

What began with a missing receipt for a tin of cat flavoured dog food, has ended with a government disbanded. 

Just as Russia’s most famous Georgian, Josef Stalin, purged political infidels by sending them to the Gulags in Siberia, the British PM started off the cull by sending thieving little MPs to the Isle of Wight – before himself being caught with his hand in the cookie jar which was sat on the work top of his rather nice, but rather empty, second home.

“I though the idea of an expenses account was to pay for shit,” cried one confused Labour MP.

“If the taxpayer just paid us more in the first place we wouldn’t need to supplement our incomes,” squawked a oh-so logical Tory from the ramparts of his crumbling castle.

“How the fuck am I supposed to afford a new pair of beige corduroys for my summer wardrobe now,” commented a Lib Dem, seemingly missing the point of why he had just lost his post.

According to reports, while Government remains disbanded, the responsibility of running British politics will lay with her majesty the Queen and/or Britain’s smartest man, Stephen Fry.