GOAT PIDDLE: The Minister of Misinformation has eeked out a narrow victory in the Scottish constituency of Goat Piddle Harbour. The British election has produced few surprises as big as this one.”I’m not only happy with the result – I’m fucking happy with the result,” said an ebullient, jubilant and intoxicated Minister.

The Minister ran as an independent to represent the 48 residents of Goat Piddle Harbour. His one opponent was Jimmie the Hand, who aside from masturbation, counts being the mascot for Goat Piddle Goaders FC among his accomplishments. Hand came close to victory, surging early in the polls but climaxing, perhaps, too early. He finished with 17 votes, compared to 18 for the Minister.

“Ah was royally cunted bah me sister Millie,” observed Hand. “I seh, ‘Millie – can ye vote for me?’ An than she goes wi’ tis otha eejit. Ach well… Tha’s life…”

The unusually small constituency of Goat Piddle Harbour is nestled on a rocky outcrop of a Hebridean island so obscure that no one has thought to name it. Goat Piddle’s residents include Morag (the Miserable), who will warn anyone that cares to listen about the dangers of earwigs crawling into your ear; and Drillich (the Drunk), who will steal your wellies to pawn for a dram of whisky.

“I met over half of the eligible voters,” said the Minister. “I listened very clearly to their concerns. Some say that I didn’t understand those concerns. But I did catch about one word in ten. I know that Goat Piddlers want to see their MP do something about gout, the rain, and the shite in general.”

The Minister’s election manifesto made the following pledges:

1. To personally remove Drillich from Mrs. Tothbit’s sheep pen every night.

2. To lobby to have Goat Piddle made the European Union’s capital of culture for the year 2012 in light of Mr. Leek’s stamp collection and Morag’s singing.

3. To personally ensure, in cooperation with local stakeholders, such as Millie at the Goat Piddle Arms, that Goat Piddle’s population decline is reversed.

4. To live at Goat Piddle at least eight days of the calendar year in order to accurately ascertain the local mood and convey that mood to Parliament at least two times a year.

5. To prove I’m not a “cheap bastard” and ensure that Drillich gets his dram on election night.