EVER found yourself trapped in an intolerable situation you can’t back out of? Faking your own death might be the answer. This is what I’m considering:
I’ve got form for being unable to use a zipline and I bought my own severed head off Slowthai, so this one’s all set up. All I need is a fat man’s body and they’ll be littering the streets before long. And then I begin my new life in Paraguay.
Disappearance at EU summit
Why leave clean when you can leave a massive f**king mess behind for your enemies to sort out? As David Cameron told me. Simply vanishing from Brussels will lead to accusations of murder and quite possibly a war while I’m sipping negronis in Volgograd.
Frame an ex
If you’ve been keeping your hand in by screwing about six posh girls a week, as I always have, then the motive for murder is never far away. Choose the least stable, stage a row, slather the bathroom in pig’s blood and the police won’t look any further. Don’t worry, she won’t do time, she’s rich.
The best bit about this one is you get to write a really long note blaming everyone, from that unsupportive bastard Starmer to that snake Gove, and the media will have to publish it. That’ll teach them for being mean to you, you’ll laugh from your palace in Pyongyang.
There’s a real danger that the Boris premiership won’t be remembered as a golden time for the nation, what with Covid and the recession and no-deal Brexit. But who will remember all that when I’m the first prime minister to spontaneously explode in the Commons? Nobody.
Just announce it in the Times
Lies work better the more blatant they are. Take an advert announcing your sad demise in the Times and move to a flat in Canary Wharf. When challenged say ‘I’m not Boris,’ with a roguish smile and carry on doing whatever you want, as usual. Trust me, it always works.