It was a small boat floating in a big sea. Two fisherman had dropped their lines in the hope of a good catch. Both had baited the hooks with titbits.
One used large pieces of fresh fears of immigration, the other unfounded economic factoids marinated in ambition.
For a while nothing happened. There was much debate about whether to remain or leave then a line suddenly ran out and they moved to haul in their catch.
On getting it into their boat they found it to be a large, fierce fish. It was flaying madly around in the bottom of the boat as they contemplated what they would do with it.
It looked like a Brexit fish - which means it was probably inedible but it was too late to throw it back. Eventually the fish stopped thrashing and they gave it a prod to check it was OK to pick it up.
Both agreed that it was very smelly - it reeked of hubris and hypocrisy. This was best dealt with by standing as far away as possible but they were a long way from the shore in a tiny dinghy made of recycled fascist tendencies, build in a mythical kingdom and powered by megalomania.
On holding it up the bulging eyes, and large lopsided face seemed familiar. "Look, if you hold it this way it makes you think of Nigel Farage but if you turn it sideways it resembles Boris Johnson". "Yes I can see that. It smells terrible. Now we have caught it but don't actually want it what shall we do?" "it might be OK cooked in PR and covered in spin but who would swallow that". "There must be someone we can give this to as a gift".
They scanned the horizon for help but the only other boats in sight, HMS Tory and Labour Marx 5 were sinking left and right with all on board heading to the lifeboats and blaming their respective captains.
"What shall we say when we get back - the village are not going to be happy. They expected a grand dinner with the best of imported wines, cooked and served up by talented but low-paid foreigners who would be asked to leave as soon as the meal was finished."
"We could pretend we found it lying on the shore and deny that it was us."
"Better still - we could accuse others of not understanding fisherman's promises. Everyone knows that they talk about the big one that got away."
"But what if there is a massive surge in attacks and abuse of foreign chefs and waiters and we get blamed for that?"
"No we cannot be blamed - it was a rhetorical fish. We didn't actually think we would catch one. Although we did write on the side of a bus 'we will keep the best bits of the good fish and send the smelly bits back to the market'."
"I thought the whole plan was that we would not remain in the market? It sounded so marvellous - 'Great' 'United' 'Kingdom' all those things but now all we have is a very smelly fish that nobody really wants".
"Let's call the fish Nigel or Boris and sell it as a bait."
-Terry Sarten is a writer, musician and satirista - feedback: tgs@inspire.net.nz