At The Crossroads Again

After yesterday's great show I turned off the radio's life support system by pulling out the plug. I stood at the window, furrowed my brow, cracked my knuckles, girded my loins and, putting great stress on my last remaining brain cell, roared,
"Honourable and indeed dishonourable members I wish to address the house."
Tommy my cat like the traitor he is, took up his place on the opposition benches and sat glaring at me like Dennis Skinnner.
"Do you remember the crossroads we were at?" I yelled. "Well, we're at it again!"
"Damn and blast!" yelled Tommy, throwing his order papers on the floor.
"I have a dream!" I yelled. "In my life I want to see peace in our time and indeed, time in our peace. And yet," I roared, "there are those, oh yes, there are those, who would take us back to the bad old days."
"Name names," cried Tommy, "or resign!"
"Today," I shouted, "a comment was made on the Gerry Anderson show."
"Hear! Hear!" cried Tommy.
"The dastardly comment," I yelled, "was made by-Sean Coyle."
"BOO!" yelled Tommy. "Bring back capital punishment."
"TODAY," I thundered,"Sean Coyle advocated mass genocide for a race of people! YES! OH YES! Mr Coyle said he would put a stop to any family who set foot on the ice. This, my friends is code for a full scale cull of all Eskimos."
Pandemonium broke out in the house. Tommy tried to grab the mace and Herbie the budgie rattled the bars of his cage.
"Over my dead body," I yelled, "over my cold, blue, mouldy, maggoty dead body! I call on the Secretary of State, whoever he, she or it may be, to arrest the agitator Coyle and confine him to the tower. And I'm not talking about The Tower Bar and Grill in down town Cullybaccy."
The house then broke up after Tommy had received permission to claim expenses for a THIRD litter tray.
There he was just a walking down the street, singing do-da-diddy-diddy-dum-diddy-do. Eating lard on a stick yet so quick on his feet. Singing, do-da-diddy-diddy-dum-diddy-do"
"Ah Tubby!" I yelled. "My old friend, Tubby Nolan. Happy pigs ear."
"And the same to you," smiled Tubby.
"Looking good my man," I said, "are you working out? You look like you've lost half an ounce."
"I feel-GREAT!" yelled Tubby. "Now that the snow has gone I feel-GREAT! You have no idea what a fat man wearing a white coat goes through when it snows. Oh, the number of young children who thought I was a fat, jolly snowman and rammed carrots into my face. And the wee hoodies," whispered Tubby, looking all around him, "the little hoodies tried to stick the carrots lower down."
"You don't mean!!" I yelled.
"YES!" shrieked Tubby. "I used to come home with my wellington boots full of carrots."
"You poor little Tubby," I said, "lie over my shoulder and I'll burp you."
As I lay under Tubby looking up at the stars I thought to myself.
"Well, that was a stupid idea." But with two forklift trucks working in tandem, I was soon back on my feet.
"Good night, dear Steven," I whispered. "Think of me tonight when you are tearing your pillow to shreds with your teeth as you gently dream of pink
blancmange."
"No probs!" yelled Tubby,as he sprinted after an emergency ambulance in the mistaken belief that it was an ice cream van.