Things didn't go as planned for Rotherham tent-dweller Ian Crossland, the fuming fuhrer throwing an almighty tantrum, getting his diapers in one hell of a twist, when mid-way through his speech, world leaked out to the gathered toddlers that Gail Speight had crawled into the crib of a random black man, just to spite him. Spitting out his Stella-dowsed dummy, he cried, and cried, and cried, until some kind little EDL Angel consoled his fragile fascist ego with a soggy handkerchief coated in spittle, however the damage was already done, those EDL brats who had learnt their fourteen words before their alphabet, pointing out that little Ian's under-developed Aryan micropenis was not up to the job.

Vengefully, Crossland initiated a party game with a mischievous twist - pass the white dust parcel, setting the ball rolling with wraps of cheap adulterated marching powder passing from EDLer to EDLer. Every time the cheap coke reached the nostrils of a fellow patriot he who had attended an NEI march, or failed to "lend him a fiver" for cigarettes, he went "boo-hoo, boo-hoo" theatricality, and with a nod and a wink, his betrayed comrades were handcuffed and rushed into a waiting mobile creche for punishment.

When most of his fellow EDLers had been arrested for possession, those remaining hinted he was a naughty little grass and not fit to be EDL leader, so the cunning little child timely threw his toys out of the pram, playing the victim, always ensuring it ended happily ever after.

NO PASARAN EVER!