"We all know prohibition doesn't work," said a government-type chap. "Look at America in the 20s. People kept on drinking and a new criminal powerhouse was born. It just takes a few gangsters to smuggle in supplies of Frosties and Sugar Puffs and we've got ourselves our own Mafia problem."
Ministers fear a wave of speakeasies could open up in the UK's major cities, where breakfasts are served with no sugar upper limit. Once these criminal enterprises have begun, there's little to stop them expanding into guns, drugs and even muesli.
Mr Burnham was criticised for not seeing the bigger picture and accused of double standards over his personal use of marmalade. "No one's saying it's out of control, but sometimes he goes missing at a dinner party and comes back very chatty. Sugar can do that."
But every cloud and all that. The birth of a ruthless criminal empire could give rise to exciting opportunities for the British film industry. If we can discover our own Scorcese, De Palma, or Coppola, someone, perhaps someone steeped in the folklore of cereal manufacture, could herald a new golden age of British cinema. No more would we have to endure films on our grim urban desolation and the barren emotional landscape of the British psyche. We'd have a sugar-fuelled Scarface, making us a breakfast we couldn't refuse.
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