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“Go back where you came from!”

April 2, 2013

What to say when someone utters that most racist of phrases:

Can’t. It sunk.

Believe me I’ve tried, but she won’t let me. I don’t think I fit anymore.

I’d say the same to you, but the street hygiene laws might render that impossible.

At least they would have me back. The same can’t be said for you.

Ask yourself; if I could freely choose, would I realistically be here, opposite you?

I am trying, but you appear to be waylaying me.

I would, but the weight of my many Olympic medals forbids my boarding a plane.

Unfortunately, I came here in a cargo ship in 1954. Jumbo jets don’t accommodate so well for stowaways.

I tried to leave, but apparently I’m in possession of information that’s a threat to national security.

[if on public transport] But I’ve already paid the fare.

[“”] OK. Mind if I fetch my brother? He’s currently driving.

[“”] Tickets, please.

I see my darkened skin has misled you. I have simply fallen into a chocolate fondue, every day since the day I was born, as did my father before me. It’s genetic.

I see my turban has misled you. I am actually harbouring Lord Voldemort.

I see you have taken exception to my wizard’s robe.

Are you talking to me, or the person I am concealing inside my beard?

Shan’t. I have a day pass.

Be fair, this is my first parole in six years.

No, no, no. The doctor said I was better now.

I know! How many security systems do I have to hack to get extradited?

Not yet. I’m still looking for a silem. Nobody thought to tell me what they look like.

I intended to, but I came here to seek Asylum and now I don’t feel very safe anymore. I guess I’ll have to stay longer.

I do not go back to factory line unless one of my component parts is defected.

Mrs Rajeshwari? My, the plastic surgery did go badly, didn’t it.

Fine. Help me with this map, would you – is Bangladesh closer to Shoreditch or Hackney?

Very well. I believe I am wanted on a cross somewhere in Jerusalem.

Good idea! Clap me in some handcuffs and we’ll split the reward 50-50.

Ah, my love, when I look into the deep pools of your eyes, I am instantly transported home.

Alas, due to a lapse in moral resistance, I am honour bound to stay. You know, I really did think she was just offering me a hot caffienated beverage.

Oh dear, it’s happening again, isn’t it? Not to worry, I’ll book you in for another session right away.

You remind me of my old Rabbi.

Yes, this is the Heathrow? Where is magic carpet? Delays as usual!

Excuse me madam, but I am afraid you are currently being possessed by a hideous dragon. Might I escort you to the nearest wielder of white magic?

You poor man! Take a pinch of this powdered beetle laxative.

“Go back to the cane farm”? But the stalks have not nearly ripened enough.

Look, I told you, you have to come with me now. You’re under arrest for soliciting, remember? Don’t make me use the pepper spray.

Oh, I have been given an instruction by an upstanding citizen. I suppose I must obey.

Will you foot me the bill for the cobblers? It’s a long walk.

But Mr Sanders, you said you’d granted me my freedom.

I am Brit! I have horse, like Balding Clare!

… There you have it, the responses to a rude and crude hollering. Of course, like all even marginally amusing responses, they will be completely wasted on the person to whom they are directed, but there are always onlookers.


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