Has Mike Nesbitt, sacked anyone else yet?

Great show yesterday kid. Mr Coyle played some great music on Monday. As the hiss of vinyl spread over Northern Ireland, old codgers, lying on hospital trolleys, yanked out catheters and jived in the corridors to the pounding beat of Mud, singing, "Tiger Feet." Tommy my cat, still wearing his pyjamas, ran down the stairs with a look of concern on his pale, sensitive, feline face and cried, "" "Not yet," I replied, "but the day is still young." "Where is it all going to end?" yelled Tommy."How many members can a party leader sack, before he is the last card left in the pack?" "Mike Nesbitt," I cried, "has seen UUP leaders come and go. They all had one thing in common, Weakness! Mike Nesbitt will brook no dissent. Go off message, just one time and you're OUT! No second chances. No appeals. You cross Mike Nesbitt, at your peril. Mike has no wish to be liked. He rules with a rod of iron. Stern of face, he will race all malcontents who pee, into tents. If you're not with him, you're against him. "GO!" he will roar. "If you disagree with me, no room for you in the UUP. The UUP, is mine, all mine. Soon, trains and buses will run on time. Will I unite, with those on the right. I will not say, yes, or answer no. The answer to that question, only Lynda and my chickens know." Politics is SO exciting," cried Tommy. "It reminds me of a spade factory. Someone is always getting shafted." "Nolan is on tonight," I said with a shudder. "Put the splatter guard in front of the television. Last week, his roaring and ranting blew the speakers and wrenched the satellite dish from off the wall." "Fake, manufactured anger," said Tommy. "The Nolan show is like wrestling used to be. Light entertainment, disguised as hard hitting and ground breaking. Big daddy, Nolan, will huff and puff, but no houses will be blown down." "For a fat man," I said, "he sure can jump nimbly on many band wagons. I believe the BNP chappie is on tonight." "A bit late to be complaining about the cost of petrol," said Tommy. "If the BNP drill expensive oil wells, they should receive a reasonable profit for their investment." "It's the birds I feel sorry for," I said. "Covered in thick, stinking, oily, BNP sludge." "Yes," sighed Tommy. "Someone always has to clean up after the BNP." I decked the halls with boughs of holly and said, "Have you seen the "Must Have" toy this Christmas? "It's a Jim Allister doll. As soon as you open the box, it springs out and grabs you by the throat." "Hours of fun for young and old alike," said Tommy. "The Tubby Nolan doll never really caught on," I said. "People soon got tired of pressing its ass, just to hear it say, "Biggest in the country." "Remember the wind-up Noel Thompson," said Tommy, "that used to jump over a stile. Now, there was a toy! Strong, durable, made to last." "Do you still have it?" I asked. "No," said Tommy with a sob. "One day Jordie Tuft asked to see it and it burst into flames." "Pyrotechnics?" I asked. "Oh, no!" said Tommy. "It just went off like a firework". --