THE GREEDY BASTARDS CURTAILMENT BILL

When I was a teenage schoolboy (Noah was still working on his drawing, deciding how many rabbit hutches he needed on the ark), April Fools Jokes were still reasonably popular.

I can’t remember ever having tried an AFJ myself, but there were boys in my class who thought putting a drawing pin on a seat was the ultimate in sophisticated humour.

These days, it seems, only newspapers, TV stations, and few strange individuals think April Fools pranks are funny.

So let me say here and now that this is a genuine, if long-overdue, JOCKEY SHORT. (New readers: Jack’s Official Crucial Key Educational Yardsticks; in this case, a snappy one).

When I get into power, one of my first pieces of legislation will be the Greedy Bastards Curtailment Bill, under which senior executives of large corporations will not get a penny in bonuses, share options, or enhanced pensions if their companies fail.

It will be retrospective to 1979, the year the country was duped into voting for Thatcherism (i.e. sheer naked greed). For example, the chief executive of Northern Rock, say, will donate every penny of his pay-off to his local hospital. He will donate the profits from his share options to the NSPCC. He will donate three-quarters of his enhanced pension (not a 100 per cent, because most pensioners are not greedy bastards) to the nearest local authority old people’s home.

It was made clear yesterday that said chief executive, Adam Applegarth, who received £760,000 as a pay-off (not to mention those huge shares and pensions benefits), had not received the full bonus agreed in his contract. Furthermore, he will not receive his 2007 bonus, the £760,000 will be paid monthly, and it will be reduced if he gets another job. Oh, that’s all right then.

Now that’s what I call an April Fools Joke.