IMAGINES Theresa May microwaving a bland and tasteless austere lunch with his spare electricity.
On the first day of Spring, local eco-warrior, Gavin Rowlocks was traumatised by his own solar panels.
“These panels were installed in December and they haven’t produced very much yet,” said Mr Rowlocks.
“Recently, they have been under a foot of snow – thanks to those Russians!”
“Finally, this lunchtime, their control panel lit up like a Christmas tree announcing that not only were the panels finally creaking into life – they were actually exporting spare energy to the National Grid.”
“Exporting! Any Tom, Dick or Harry could be helping themselves to my electricity.”
“Sun’s out! I screamed and the whole family had to run around switching on all available appliances.”
“The oven, slow cooker, washing machine, dishwasher, kettle and toaster weren’t enough of a demand.”
“I turned on the immersion heater and ran an extension lead to my neighbour’s hybrid car.”
“That sucked 10 kilowatts but still the clouds refused to obscure the sun.”
“All I could imagine was Laura Kuenssberg leering at me while she straightened her hair with my electricity.”
“Finally, I had to turn on the tumble dryer on – with nothing in it – to stop the rot.”
“It’s sunset now – thank goodness.”
“My neighbour doesn’t realise that I can suck my electricity back out of his car batteries if I can just get to the socket in the boot.”
“Other than that – I have got a candle to last us until bedtime.”
“I don’t think I will be able to sleep worrying what dawn will bring.”
“Would you like me to charge up your laptop, mobile, power bank ….?”