How would the press react to an announcement that the Conservatives intended to slaughter all kittens?

How would the press react to an announcement that the Conservatives intended to slaughter all kittens?

How could you?! You monster!

In the wake of the Conservative Party announcing they wished to punish dementia sufferers by seizing their assets to pay for care, and sections of the press falling over itself to attempt to justify this policy I imagine its reaction to an announcement of a policy of murdering kittens, and the Guardians, but just because it's fun to rag on the Guardian - it is still my favourite newspaper:
The Economist would still run an op-ed about what a master stroke it was compared to Labours insane policies of investing in educating the young, rather than instruments with which to club kittens. They will knowingly explain that any policy that didn't involve the wholesale slaughtering of feline infants would surely mean an increase in inflation - although never bothering to explain why, but providing a metaphor that led one to suspect the policy will involve throwing the creatures into a very deep chasm, so as to 'plug the deficit'.
The Telegraph would declare that felicide was an excellent way to capture the centre ground, unlike Corbyn who's old fashioned about actually quite liking kittens. By not killing them The Telegraph informs us we'll be back to the 1970's. All whilst running pieces which praise hunting with dogs, laud the monarchy, exult grammar schools, weep for the loss of national service and but reserve criticism for taking accusations of child abuse seriously. Leaving the reader to question; what bizarre vision of the past the Telegraph hacks wish to return to? Well, certainly not one without the ritual slaughter of kittens, said hacks would reply. 
The Guardian would run a hand ringing piece about its disapproval of the policy of the whole-sale killing of baby cats. Although it would be quick to make the reader aware that the policy was an embarrassment for Labour and the blame lay with Corbyn and his team. The source being a Labour parish councillor from a hamlet in Devon who had informed the defenders of liberal-guilt that they and a couple of their mates (also parish councillors) thought this to be true - anonymously, of course. Said councillor is considering defecting to the Liberal Democrats and has called for Corbyns resignation. The piece believes this is a symptom of Labours alienation from the working classes in the 'northern heartlands' - which the Guardian takes to include said hamlet in Devon. It was written by Annabelle, sub-edited by Fiona and approved by Sebastian, who incidentally are all invited to Tristrams soirée in Notting Hill this Saturday.

The Financial Times would deal in an even handed way with the issue, but you would be left with the impression that, on balance and providing it wouldn't spook the FTSE or the NASDAQ or whatever alphabet mash-up of global finance capital represented the area from which the ultimately transient journalist who wrote the article was currently based in, they would prefer that kitten slaughter was avoided - but only because stocks in cat food would drop.
The Times will run a piece written by a man who shares a name with a terrible eighties drummer, although he doesn't care to shorten it like the impresario behind "In The Air Tonight". The paper, whilst staunchly Conservative, can claim to be balanced because said namesake associates with a faction of the Labour Party so right wing that it should genuinely puzzle you. From the first paragraph you can tell it functions to praise the 'pragmatic' policy of slaughtering the little bundles of fun, and sneers in a way that only those who mistake the class position they where born into for talent on their part can. Beyond this one first paragraph you cannot know because it's behind a paywall. You remember that this newspaper was once said to be the mouthpiece of the British Government - but that it is now the mouthpiece of Rupert Murdoch.

Paul Dacre at The Mail, for his part, would just be masturbating at the thought of all the suffering kittens. He would be hunched over in the dank, dark, hole he crawls out of every day to inflict himself upon an unsuspecting world. The weird sexualised phantasm of Theresa May that the Mail has created at the forefront of his mind as he pump, pump, pumps away before succumbing to the carnal rupture. Ejaculating, not semen containing sperm, but newspapers containing pure hatred; although, tinged with lust - onto a marionette of Margaret Thatcher  - as the world looked in, disgusted at this golgothan of a man and his bizarre objects of desire.


Notes: Honestly, the Mail has been running hate campaign against cats for a few years now - which I discovered whilst doing research for this. Genuinely if you Google "name for killing cats" articles calling for the killing of cats from the Mail come up - it's fucking weird. Also, I'd written something for the Express, Sun and Star - but fuck those guys, they're the same newspaper but with varying degrees of dead Princesses, word play, tits and racism.


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