So there I was, getting some tomatoes from Joe's stall, having a bit of laugh with him, as you do, when he goes, oh look, what's all that then, so I look, and there's a big blue bus parked at the south end of the square, Stronger in Europe painted in great big letters on the side, and that Cameron chap's getting out, white shirt open at the neck, sleeves rolled up as if he's been working, and he's walking around smiling and shaking hands, and people are gathering round, but there's these big looking chaps with little wires coming out of their right ear, all wearing dark glasses, and they move along with Cameron, and you can see they don't like anyone getting too close, they push people away, even old Mrs Goggins, who's voted tory all her life, and I can see she's not too happy about it. Then I hear Joe say, and look here, who's this then, and I look at the other end of the square and there's a big red bus stopping, with £350 million written on the side, and blow me if that big daft lump Boris Johnston isn't getting out, jacket all rumpled, hair in a state, and he's giving it waves and smiles and handshakes all around, but he's got the same big chaps at his side and behind him, they're looking all around, for people throwing eggs probably, on account this is market day and they're in plentiful supply. Then Joe says, blimey, there's another one, look, and another big red bus has pulled up at the side of the square, only this one says IN on the side, and some old fella's getting out, he's got white hair and a scruffy beard and old brown jacket on, no tie, looks like he's the bus driver, but he's got a minder with him, who looks a bit bored, seeing as nobody much is coming over to see their bus, and then Joe says oh lor, that's the tin lid on it, cos another bus has pulled in outside the pound shop, this one's purple and it's got no roof, and old Nigel Farage is standing up on the top, wearing an old pin-striped suit like my dad used to wear in the war, waving and giving his goofy grin, fag in one hand, pint in the other, he doesn't seem to have any minders, just a raggle-taggle bunch of all shapes and sizes, waving out of the downstairs windows. Nigel doesn't seem to mind though, seems to think it's all very amusing. So I turn to Joe and I say, how the devil am I supposed to get my shopping done now the circus is in town?

He thought that was pretty funny, did Joe.