2026: A George Osborne story

The Evening Standard is just the beginning. George Osborne has lots of jobs.

2026: All jobs are held by George Osborne. He runs the country. He writes all books. He serves you fries.

The Sportsperson of the year is George Osborne. All of the nominees are George Osborne. George Osborne also presents Sportsperson of the year.

George Osborne also now presents the Great British Bake-off. You’re annoyed, but grudgingly admit that he’s a better choice than Noel Fielding. He has also been announced as the replacement for Peter Capaldi. He will now play The Doctor. He will also play the companion. And the Daleks.

You try to go on holiday. You book tickets via George Osborne. He checks your passport. He frisks you. He writes the in-flight magazine. You are beginning to get concerned.

When you get back, you have toothache. You need a root canal. So you go to the dentist. You sit in the chair, looking up at the bright light. You hear the drill start. You have been given no anaesthetic. The dentist is George Osborne.

As Prime Minister, George Osborne has closed all the libraries. He breathes a secret sigh of relief, as he didn’t really want to be a librarian at any point.

Meanwhile, the red light district is full of George Osborne, dressed in thigh-high boots and flirting with you.

You go home and turn on the television. The new landlord of the Queen Vic is George Osborne. He will also continue as the landlord of the Rovers Return. He is also continuing as all the customers in both pubs.

George Osborne teaches your children, while also mowing the playing field. George Osborne grades the schools he runs. They all perform ‘above average’.

You need something to drink. A pick-me-up. George Osborne serves you coffee in a zero-hours contract job in Starbucks. He spells your name correctly. The coffee is good. Better than you expected.

You go to a concert. The support act is George Osborne. The headliner is George Osborne. Throughout the evening, you start to feel a bit more like yourself. The music lifts your soul.

George Osborne tucks your children into bed and then tenderly makes love to your husband. You weep. George Osborne wipes your tears away.

You go for a walk the next day. The sun is shining. “This is better,” you say to yourself, wandering through the new park, excellently tended by George Osborne. Your heart swells.

No. No, it doesn’t swell. It wasn’t actually swelling. It’s a massive heart attack.

You’re rushed to hospital by George Osborne. He drives the ambulance while monitoring you. When you get there, you’re rushed into surgery. George Osborne operates on you. Your chest is open and George Osborne’s hands are inside you. He smiles lovingly at you. “You are George Osborne too,” he says.

You die, but safe in the knowledge that we are all George Osborne. George Osborne digs your grave. George Osborne lays flowers. The grave reads “RIP George Osborne”. George Osborne did an excellent job with the engraving.

You reach heaven.

The gates open.

George Osborne is waiting for you.

This story was written by George Osborne.