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Britain’s angry men are in distress, say psychologists. ‘Kindness towards strangers, tolerance of difference, a generally calmer society – this all sounds positive,’ said Professor Watson of the University of West Huddersfield.


'But angry men need an outlet. If they can’t abuse a neighbour for the colour of his skin or shout sexual threats at passing women, where’s all that energy supposed to go?’ Angry men aren’t really joiners so there are no ‘official’ societies for them, though any political movement connected with Nigel Farage seems to be a good place to look.


We spoke to Bill (not his real name), an angry man in Stafford. ‘I just want to know – when do we get a parade? The world has changed beyond all recognition. Even my local chippy now has a . . . bloke, do I call him that? . . . anyway, some days he’s in a dress, some days trousers. The chips are as good as ever and I always chat to him, her – fuck me, this is complicated.’


‘In the good old days I’d throw some good-natured banter about and if anybody didn’t like it we could get into a ruck. Nowadays, beat somebody to a pulp because they’ve got foreign skin or whatever and it’s a hate crime. Was it a friendship crime before? Cause we don’t mean nothing by it, it’s how we bond.’


Government policies have contributed to the problem. PE teaching vacancies are down and the police only take graduates. Nightclub door staff have to be registered. There’s always the French Foreign Legion, but it’s both French and Foreign, two words guaranteed to trigger an angry Brit.


Bill is pacing up and down Stafford High Street, twitching every time a schoolgirl with large breasts walks past. He punches himself in the face repeatedly, his tension almost palpable.


‘I don’t know what I’ll do next. Thank God for the Euros. Booing the Kraut anthem was great, and we all laughed at that silly girl crying because her team got thrashed. Get used to it love, there’s loads more where that came from. One world cup and two world wars, doo dah, doo dah.’

Jacob Rees-Mogg’s assessment of how Matt Hancock handled the pandemic, has reportedly convinced Boris Johnson to encourage the leader of the house to play a bigger part in frontline politics once more. Despite Mr Hancock’s spectacular fall from grace since.


The part-time Gussie Fink-Nottle impersonator, once an almost daily source of comedy entertainment on our screens, disappeared from public life quite some time ago giving considerable cause for concern to absolutely no one at all.


On hearing the news, Billericay whelk stall holder, Barry Shite said: ‘If this is true then I’m well made-up, cos Jacob’s my guy. Look mate, just like him, I never had fack all until I pulled myself up by my bootstraps.’


‘See, we’re cut from the same cloff, innit? And now he’s back on the scene, the man in the street’s gonna get a fair crack of the whip. It ain’t no sin to be borassic, and Jacob, more than most, knows that only too well.’

A member of the public has found the government’s remaining small shred of credibility in a bus shelter in Kent.


‘I almost didn’t see it, but somehow it caught my eye,’ Joyce Robinson said. ‘It was a small, unpleasant looking thing on the seat, so my first instinct was to brush it off. Something made me take a closer look though.’


After taking it home and looking at it under a microscope, Mrs Robinson realised what she had found.

A government spokesperson confirmed that the credibility had been reported as missing shortly after the government was formed.


‘I am just glad it was found,’ they said. ‘I mean it could easily have been missed as it is so small, y’know after it has suffered so much – the post-Brexit Northern Ireland situation, the way contracts have been awarded, the ignoring of Priti Patel’s bullying, not shutting the border to India early enough.’


‘The the Cummings/Barnard Castle fiasco, the ‘totally f-ing useless’ text, Boris boasting of having shaken hands with Covid patients and then going into intensive care with the virus, the way care homes have been treated in the pandemic, not taking any steps to ease the broader social care problems, Jennifer Arcuri – and now, the final straw, Hancock being caught snogging his mistress.’

Anyway, I’m just glad we’ve got it back. It is now perfectly safe here on my desk. Wait a minute, where’s it gone? It’s completely disappeared! Oh god, what has one of the clowns done now?’

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