Ah, fellow citizens and motoring enthusiasts! I, Ronald Tramp, the undisputed, infallible and incomparable President of Elmburg, stand here today to tell you of a heartbreaking story. It is the story of Rishi Sunak, the British Prime Minister, wandering in the deep valley of the polls, crouching on the edge of despair. Much like a mouse floundering in a trap, he desperately seeks a way out. Then, like a bolt from the blue, enlightenment strikes him: "Why not embrace the motorists?" a voice whispers in his ear.

Like a lost knight in shimmering armour, he promises to take his foot off the accelerator of the war against motorists. With a bravado that would make even Don Quixote proud, he announces that he will stop the nationwide change to 30 mph zones in inner cities. A heroic coup! The streets are to hum like a beehive again, without barriers, without borders!

Oh, what a noble gesture! He will rebuild the kingdom on V8s and horsepower! Yet, dear friends, our fearless knight stumbles over the small letter in the fine print of bureaucracy: the municipalities hold the keys to the kingdom of speed limits firmly in their hands.

All of Elmburg laughs at the tragicomic drama unfolding on the island. The noble knight Sunak, who heroically tries to turn the wheel, crashes against the implacable walls of communal autonomy. In his distress, he promises more: the end of the internal combustion engine will be postponed! Britons will be allowed to ride five years longer in their trusty, smoking steel steeds, towards the sunset, hearts full of hope and lungs full of exhaust fumes.

But as Sunak builds his election promises like a house of cards in the wind, we, the proud Elmburgers, see through his transparent manoeuvre. The PM, blinded by the spotlight of his own vanity, forgets that people cannot be hoodwinked with impunity. He will learn that empty promises lay the foundation for a slippery political slope.

In Elmburg, on the other hand, we keep our helm firmly in hand, unfazed by the turbulence across the Channel. We keep our pace and our dignity without being blinded by promises as brittle as a rotten wooden wheel.

So we drive on, dear Elmburgers, on the highway of life, unperturbed and unshaken, while watching in the rear-view mirror the spectacle of the stumbling knight Sunak wandering on the bumpy road of politics, in search of the lost paradise of popularity.

May the wheels of our cars and our lives always run smoothly while we watch the capers of the world stage with a smile on our lips. Cheers, Elmburg!