How to build your baby bullshit bunker

THE Daily Mash presents a step-by-step guide to hiding out until the madness has passed.

The latest royal baby has arrived and you must act quickly to safeguard your family’s sanity as the ensuing bullshit turns millions of ordinary people into maniacs.

Here’s how to construct a simple, media-proof baby bullshit bunker: 

Dig up your garden to a depth of 8ft and line the pit with sandbags. These should keep out any TV, radio or internet signals which all contain high levels of baby bullshit.

Cover the top of the pit with decking, which will make it look like a normal garden and deter any Sky reporters from visiting to ‘get your reaction’ to the birth.

Grab tinned food, bottled water and a firearm. Get into the bunker as quickly as possible, otherwise neighbours may force you to attend a celebratory tea party.

Friends or relatives may appear, desperately demanding entry to your shelter and perhaps trying to claw their way in. But it’s too late for them, they are already contaminated and are thinking about nothing except whether the baby will be called Edward or Albert. Use deadly force if necessary.

The hardest part is knowing when to emerge. Lift the decking just enough to see out and look for warning signs like bunting, commemorative floral displays and people wearing Union Jack suits with giant papier-mache baby heads.

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What will happen to Britain's ice-cream vans? A five point guide

THE traditional ice-cream van and the double threat it brings to school gates – diesel fumes and sugary snacks – may soon be just a memory. But how can you sustainably repurpose your Mr Whippy? 

You can’t afford to buy, houseboats are a houseshare with rats, so why not live in an ice-cream van all year round? Bigger than most studios and you can use the chest freezer as a bath, or a spare room when friends come to stay.

Drive to Hoxton and Shoreditch for a pop-up street food experience selling sweetened micro-frozen cream spheres in natural flavours with artisanal dips, toppings, sauces and vintage Cadbury’s Flakes. Which isn’t an ice-cream van because the words are different.

Transform your van into a mobile museum commemorating Margaret Thatcher, who single-handedly invented soft-scoop ice-cream before going on to save the world. Bear in mind that serving 99s in an Iron Lady mask will be horrifically frightening to everyrone.

Just drive around playing the tunes to brighten people’s hearts. In fact bring in a live organist and string section.

Convert your van to a mobile hot-tub and drive around all winter offering 20 minutes for £2.80. It’s still seasonal work and, when you think about it, it’s no weirder than an ice-cream van.