BRITAIN, 2067. The cities are in flames, the countryside barren and lifeless. There is no government. The UK exists in name only. Only the pensions triple lock endures.
A handful of pensioners survive in bunkers, in remote cottages in the Scottish Highlands, or in hiding. And every year their state pension rises with either inflation, the average wage or 2.5 per cent, whichever is higher.
Why? Because back in the 20s, at the beginning of the energy wars, Britain made one principle sacrosanct: our pensioners must come first, for they vote.
And in all the years and events since – the London Drowning, the hurricanes and monsoons, the end of the Gulf Stream and the East Coast Ice Age – we have maintained that.
While our capital disappeared beneath rising waters, we reassured Chelsea pensioners on makeshift rafts that inflation would not outpace their income. While crops failed and the pound died, we made sure that pensions kept pace with barter systems.
Today, the only government infrastructure is the pensions office. Armoured convoys run out monthly to the few surviving pensioners, besieged by legions of the starving.
Inflation runs at 9,000 per cent and pensions with it. Whole communities exist around a single venerated pensioner and die when the pensioner dies. Respect for our elders has never been higher.
Which all proves that Britain made the right decision back in the 2020s when it decided to protect the pensions triple lock above all. The alternative is unthinkable.
