Remember the Looney Tunes cartoon character, Wile E. Coyote, the useless hunter who relentlessly chased Road Runner, the stick-thin bird too fast to catch?

He would even pursue him off the side of a cliff, still running in mid-air. Then he’d notice there was nothing below him – and he’d plummet to the ground with a thud.

Well, for hapless ol’ Wile E. read Britain, which is about to discover what happens when the ground disappears from underneath you.

President Donald Trump said at the outset of his war on Iran that it wouldn’t last more than six weeks, ‘tops’. That was eight weeks ago. Now he says there is ‘no timeframe’, that he’s in ‘no hurry’ to end hostilities.

Of course, nothing Trump says can ever be taken at face value. But it would seem prudent to assume the war isn’t going to end any time soon.

Yet, strangely, the British Government blithely proceeds as if nothing bad could happen. It will rue the day it didn’t take what’s in store more seriously.

Yes, the ceasefire, which Trump has extended indefinitely (for now), has stopped both sides hurling missiles and bombs at each other. But that’s been replaced by the far more threatening (for the global economy) battle for the Strait of Hormuz, which remains closed to all shipping of which Iran does not approve.

Trump has now mounted a blockade of Iran’s blockade, which means even less energy and petrochemical supplies for the global economy.

With no sign that either side is ready to fold, we have all the more reason to hope for the best – but plan for the worst.

The worst will start to rear its ugly head in the coming month.

So far, Trump’s War has removed almost 650 million barrels of oil from the international market, and will reach 1 billion before May is out, a crunch point for the global economy.

Each day the Strait of Hormuz remains closed, another 10 million barrels of oil and vital petroleum products – around 10 per cent of global supply – remain stranded inside the Gulf.

Those of you wondering why we’ve not really felt the impact of this, bar higher petrol and diesel prices at the pump, should realise that, like Wile E., we’re still running on thin air which, of course, can’t continue indefinitely.

Yes, you can still fill your tank (at a price). Lorries are still greasing the wheels of commerce (but paying a lot more for diesel). Planes are still flying (though soon not so many). And fuel stocks, such as they are, remain high.

But if you want to see the grim reality of what’s in store for us, just look at the Asia-Pacific region, which is already suffering.

More than 80 per cent of oil, gas and associated petrochemical products coming through the Strait of Hormuz before Trump’s War were destined for the Asia- Pacific. So it has felt the pain first.

Despite far greater strategic oil reserves (Britain has almost none), the early introduction of energy saving measures (Britain has implemented none) and clever sourcing of alternative supplies, Asian countries are running out of energy.

Asian refineries have slashed output by 3 million barrels per day (bpd) – about 10 per cent of their combined capacity – with production cuts expected to hit 5 million bpd next month and 10 million bpd by mid-summer.

China has suspended the export of refined oil products to conserve its own supplies, adding to the growing regional shortage.

South Korea, the world’s biggest exporter of jet fuel (supplying 30 per cent of global demand), is running out of crude oil to refine. Major Asian airlines, from Cathay Pacific to Qantas, are slashing flight schedules by the tens of thousands to eke out diminishing supplies of expensive fuel, while smaller airlines are facing bankruptcy.

Jet fuel in Asia now costs $200 a barrel. It was $94 before Trump’s War. Petrol in Asia, which was $80 before the war, is now $125 a barrel and rising, Diesel, $93 pre-war, is now $175. These products are traded on global markets, which means these prices are fast heading our way too.

Asia now faces surging food costs, empty supermarket shelves and shortages of everything from vaccines to syringes. It is also running short of microchips for its burgeoning digital industries because chip production requires helium gas, and 30 per cent of that comes, or did come, from the Gulf.

The Indian rag trade is cutting production because nylon and polyester (made from Gulf petrochemicals) are in short supply.

Things have got so bad that workers are returning to their rural villages to thresh wheat as industry closes down.

Meanwhile, crops are rotting in fields in the Philippines because farmers can’t afford the fuel to transport them to markets.

Across Asia, the talk is of businesses going bust and governments taking on debt to subsidise fuel prices, with recession and even political unrest down the track.

Since Asia is now the ‘workshop of the world’, shortages of all manner of products will soon be felt in the West, along with higher prices.

And more pain is on the way.

Germany’s Lufthansa, for example, has already cancelled 20,000 short-haul flights. That can only be a harbinger of worse to come.

Those of you hoping to jet to the sun this summer could be in for a big disappointment. UK supplies of jet fuel will soon be perilously low.

We have been shielded because, when Trump’s War started, a record amount of oil was already at sea and heading for Western markets. That seaborne source is now in Europe. There is no more on its way.

There will now be a scramble for supplies, with the frenzied demand pushing up prices. It will be every country for itself.

UK inflation is already back over 3 per cent and rising. It could nudge 5 per cent before the summer is out. A barrel of oil currently costs $105, which could easily hit $130 by mid-summer, with diesel even more expensive.

This will feed into higher delivery costs, especially of food, which is already getting more expensive because of rising fertiliser prices.

Higher inflation means higher borrowing costs for government, companies and house buyers. Mortgage costs are already rising and will rise more. Interest rates could increase, too. They certainly won’t come down, as they were expected to do before the war.

All of this will be a drag on the economy, curbing growth, which was already sclerotic.

Near-zero economic growth means lower government revenues. If the Government tries to borrow more to make up for the shortfall and to subsidise those hit by higher fuel bills, then interest rates will soar and recession will beckon.

Perhaps the Government has a secret masterplan to cope with this. I wouldn’t count on it. It’s too much like a rabbit caught in the headlights of the Mandelson scandal to be a master of anything.

A combination of incompetence, ignorance and inexperience means we’re heading towards a summer of rising discontent, at a time when we’re run by politicians with little clue what to do, headed by a lame-duck prime minister.

There is no excuse for this. Even if peace was magically to break out, the Pentagon this week revealed, in a classified briefing to Congress, that it would take six months to return to anything like normality in the Gulf.

The more likely prospect is for the Strait of Hormuz to remain essentially closed for the foreseeable future, with all that entails for the global economy in general and the UK economy in particular. Trump has no idea what to do about that.

Which makes it all the more terrifying that we have a government which thinks sticking its fingers in its ears, shutting its eyes tight and loudly singing ‘la la la’ is somehow an adequate response. Even Wile E. Coyote wasn’t that stupid.