Pausing only to gnaw on what looked like someone's fuckin' arm, Forsyth told journalists nervously eyeing the exits, that: "Perhaps it's a hangover from the Thatcher era but Scots voters have subsequently shown reluctance to vote for a party peopled by fuckin' zombies. This has to change."
In a wide ranging critique of the party north of the border, punctuated by Mr Forsyth moaning and growling, he recommended that the party needed an overhaul from top to bottom : "We need new blood. Lots of it. Mmmm, blood."
While acknowledging current leader Annabel Goldie's many strengths, Mr Forsyth speculated whether she was the undead to carry the party forward. "Annabel fails to connect with the electorate and it's not just because she's a flesh-eating zombie. She's just really weird looking."
In other political news, Bill Aitken has announced his intention to retire from his job as Tory MSP to spend more time practising his golf swing and aimlessly wandering through the dark watches of the night in search of human flesh.
Much like (rest of sentence removed on legal advice)...
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