To the astonishment of most of the assembled journalists in London today, Cap’n Merv King steered his ship The Scarlet Threadneedle towards a confrontation with the forces of the Spanish Netherlands. The piratical weatherman at the helm of the Threadneedle launched into a pitched battle of metaphors that left reporters wondering not just what he might be on about, but also whose side he might be on.

“We find ourselves atop the high waves of low productivity,” he began, “and facing stormy weather from the choppy seas across the Channel, where it isn’t actually sea but land, but you know what I mean. We must therefore avoid the rocks of euromadness and steer a steady course towards the safe port of somewhere that doesn’t have the euro and is still daft enough to believe that all this pointless austerity is likely to get us anywhere.”

Warming to his theme, Captain King insisted that, “Although there may be grey clouds of bonkers bankers on the dark horizon of an unbalanced economy, we see before us a vast ocean of consumers in China which is also land not sea but entirely calm even though its ship of State looks set for a hard landing on the beach of recession. There may be squally storms later with scattered protests about human rights, but f**k that for a game of soldiers, we have lots of things they’d like to buy so let’s get to it and crack on with our patriotic task of making Royal Jubilee mugs and pots of breakfast marmalade.”

Speaking from an exposed position behind several rows of defensive gun emplacements and Newscorp denials, Queen Cameron I expressed her gratitude to Sir Mervyn Fake. “He has singed the ghastly Fuherin’s beard,” he declared, adding, “We must now continue on the righteous path of not having a clue what to do beyond telling the Europeans they must pull out the finger and find a plum before it’s too late and we are all forced onto the back foot of blaming the Germans while forming a useless alliance with the French.” His Majesty added that he hoped to take Lady Rebekah Redtop as his bride, and replace the old Royal House of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha with the new one of Brooks-Cameron-Newscorp.

“Avast and belay yer scurvy Knave,” continued Cap’n Merv, “There’s booty to be had for us all my lads ha-haaarrgg, we’ll be sailin’ on the noon wench.”