Oliver O’Connor, phone repair technician: “Resident Evil. Because the initial six films, the reboot and the Netflix series were all total shite, but I’ve got high hopes for this one.”

Joanne Kramer, beautician: “The one about the guy swallowed by the whale. I love erotic horror.”

Norman Steele, mink farmer: “Is there one directed by some f**king 22-year-old based on some bollocks internet meme terminally online kids swap around on race-hate message boards? I hear they’re brilliant.”

Nikki Hollis, platinum miner: “I can’t remember which Paranormal Activity we’re up to, so I hid a camera in my own lounge to film myself watching them. Disturbingly, it discovered that during key moments of the movies I was on my phone.”

Jordan Gardner, student: “Other Mommy with Jessica Chastain. Because to be released a fortnight before Halloween it must be truly f**king horrific.”

Stock up while you can

Sally Rooney only withdrew her books from sale recently, meaning there’s probably still a few copies of Conversations with Friends waiting for you in Waterstones. Failing that, charity shops have enough of her novels to fill a wheelbarrow. Hoard them immediately because who knows when this drought will end, and it might take her years to write another glum story about a horny tree surgeon or whatever.

Ration your copy of Intermezzo

You remember Intermezzo. It’s Rooney’s fourth novel about chess and grief. For some reason you didn’t tear through it and decided to watch Instagram reels of cute puppies instead. Luckily your laziness has paid off, as you can now eke out its 448 pages. Read it one dreary sentence at a time and you should be good for the next decade.

Read any of the many, many similar books

Sally Rooney is a literary sensation, so publishers have saturated the market with anything bearing a passing resemblance to her work to make a quick buck. A creatively bankrupt business model, perhaps, but it means there are thousands of similar books about depressed middle-class women waiting for you to ‘enjoy’. Your gran’s probably got you one for Christmas already.

Write your own literary fiction

How hard can it be? Just write what you know. With any luck your novel about a sexually frustrated office assistant clamouring for a Sally Rooney novel could win the next Booker Prize. Change the names of awful characters based on your friends to cover your arse, chuck in a scene of horny yearning set in a Gail’s bakery, and you’re golden.

Watch Normal People for the millionth time

Admit it, you’ve never actually read any Sally Rooney. You just liked to look at their colourful covers on the book shelf and feel like part of a cultural conversation. But the BBC adaptation of Normal People, that’s a different story. You watched that repeatedly, and not just because it came out during lockdown and you’d exhausted conventional pornography. Stick it on again for that faux-intellectual hit.

The maths professor’s transition from Faithful to Traitor in last night’s episode of The Celebrity Traitors has reduced 6 Music listeners to quivering, horny wrecks who may have to hump out their frustrations on their furniture.

Martin Bishop, 48, said: “I already thought she was the full package. The brains. The beauty. The charm. A hidden dark side is the last thing my comprehensive fantasies needed.

“She’s sexy enough when she’s a nerd who does hard sums. And I never thought watching someone try to banish Joe Lycett or Bella Ramsey from a Scottish castle would turn me on, but here we are.

“Last night she was breathlessly running through a field and smashing some front doors in with a big battering ram. I can only assume the producers knew exactly what they were doing with that sort of imagery.

“God help me if she ditches her colourful jumpers and starts dressing like Sandy at the end of Grease. I think I’d wank myself to death.”

Hannah Fry said: “I am only unfaithful in the context of the show. Please stop cheating on your wives with me.”

‘What are they on about?’

The characters are speaking English, but not recognisable English. Nor, even when you’re past the archaic formulations and long words, are they talking about ordinary things like Flamin’ Hot Doritos or noise-cancelling earbuds. If you fancy her, ask her out; if she says no, ask her less attractive sister. No wonder everyone in the past died.

‘When will something happen?’ 

There appears to be no hero, half-an-hour in. Just sisters in dresses that even charitably can’t be described as sexy bemoaning their failure to get married. No teams of special forces have been silently killed and no giant reptiles are crushing cottages. Consequently there is nothing you could describe as a narrative.

‘When will it end?’ 

There are at least two hours to go, which will feel like 12. More than one toilet break would seem suspicious. I should have brought beers. What beers did they have back then? Probably only basic ones, like Boddington’s and Samuel Smith’s. I could drink that ruffle-shirted fop under the table I reckon.

‘What did I eat earlier and what will I eat next?’ 

Ah, lunch. Chicken fajitas. Fantastic. Wish I’d brought nachos in here. What have we got in? Can’t ask my girlfriend, she seems to think this bit’s emotional even though it’s the same as the others. We could get a lamb Rogan Josh on the way home. I could claim it’s because the film was so good it made me hungry.

‘I’ve got to get my powered handsaw back off Ewan’ 

Nice bit of scrollwork over the door, that. Quality workmanship. That reminds me that Ewan’s still got my saw and you don’t want to leave him with stuff. But I can’t text him until this is over. I need to remember to message him when this torture’s over. Sense and Sensibility, sense, fence, garden fence, garden gate, mate, Ewan, saw. Sorted.

‘What if aliens landed?’ 

Earth would be f**ked if they’d invaded whenever this was. All they’d have to do is keep their hats on in chapel and the men would ignore them for having bad manners and the women would faint.

‘Please let their be shagging’ 

An hour and a half and f**k all’s happened. I’ve given up on nudity but there should at least be a knee-trembler against a sturdy oak. An evening wasted watching toffs chat shite. They should have called it Nonsense and Nonsensibility. Wait, what did she say? I’ve seen this before with Kate Winslet in it. Oh for f**k’s sake.

The skip diver

One man’s trash is another man’s treasure, specifically his. He can’t pass a skip without rescuing a painting he’s convinced will buy him an outdoor sauna and hot tub he’s already had quotes for. ‘At auction I estimate perhaps £150,’ the expert says, and his face collapses and in his eyes you can almost see the hot tub being repossessed.

The twentysomething with grandpa’s medals

Great-grandad fought in the war so that must mean a cash payout, right? His descendant, who barely knows his name, says he just wants to know the value for insurance purposes and, y’know, maybe a fortnight in Ibiza? Told their value he nods, crushed, saying they’re priceless anyway and he could never sell them. Not at £15 each he f**king can’t.

The hopeful bargain-hunter

Turns up with mass-produced modern silver bullshit jewellery too ugly to wear. A bit of green on the finger is fine, it came from a car-boot sale so it’s probably vintage Tiffany. Better melted down for scrap value, it transpires. Its owner nods, mentally threatening that bitch on the stall who sold it to her for £8.50.

The family heirloom liquidator

Aunt Christine claims those glasses are Lalique crystal, that they were a wedding gift, and they’re worth thousands. But it turns out they’re those glasses you got for free with petrol in the 70s and a guest fobbed her off. The present turned out to be as much of a con as the marriage. Better sneak them back into the cupboard.

The bright-eyed hopeful

He found this in a charity shop, priced at just 50p, and he knows the first appearance of Spider-Man is worth £32,000. His sharp eyes and shrewd negotiating skills have made him a fortune! Until he’s informed Spectacular Spider-Man 145 is only worth three quid in good condition, and this isn’t. Cue bitter rant that you can’t even trust Oxfam.

The guy who spent a fortune

One way to get on the show is spend shitloads and then say innocently on camera that you too were surprised to find a Romanov treasure in a Basildon car park. Because morons love to believe they’ve tricked the experts. Then they’re told this isn’t a Fabergé egg but a cheap fake. ‘I just liked the design anyway,’ they lie while we laugh.

Having trashed the premise of The Celebrity Traitors within minutes by blowing his cover, Richard E Grant has been torn a new one by the BBC for spoiling their one and only programme the public genuinely enjoys.

The BBC said: “There goes months of hype and speculation down the toilet, and we were barely an episode in. Cheers for that.

“We needed this. With Doctor Who off the air and Josh Widdicombe repelling audiences on Strictly, a bunch of celebs and King Kenny dicking about in a castle was all we had. Until you came along with your four-dimensional chess bullshit.

“You could’ve laughed off your revelation as a dumb joke, but no, you tripled down on it with your posho laugh. Pity the poor editors who somehow have to make the next round table look suspenseful as everyone goes ‘it’s obviously Richard’.

“Any bright ideas on how we can salvage this? Actually, forget it. You’ll probably suggest we put on a repeat of The Good Life or blow up Broadcasting House.”

James Acaster and Jerry Hall

Reports are already swirling that James Acaster is buckling under the strain of taking part in Celebrity Traitors. Could it be the burden of keeping a treacherous secret, or is it due to sexual tension with 1970s supermodel Jerry Hall? He’s a gangly wreck at the best of times, but maybe he’ll pair nicely with the cool 70-year-old stunner. It’s just a fact that opposites attract.

Hannah Fry and Ross Kemp

A modern take on Romeo and Juliet’s star-crossed lovers. Flame-haired Fry with her flair for numbers. No-haired Kemp with his knack for playing one character. They shouldn’t work together but they do. It’ll be difficult to focus on them as they try to suss out the Traitors – you’ll be too busy thinking how brainy and hard their bizarre-looking children will be.

Bella Ramsey and Michael Sheen

Steady on, you sputter. He’s 57 and she’s 23. You’re pretty progressive and all but even you draw the line at certain age-gap relationships. Then you remember that he’s already going out with a 30-year-old so this wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. It’s not icky if the celebrities in question are generally likeable.

Miranda Hart and Joe Lycett

An obvious one but only because it feels so natural. These camp, larger-than-life comedians are so similar that shipping them requires minimal mental effort. In fact you’ll start to wonder if they’re even separate people, or if they divided like an amoeba at an early age and have only just been reunited. Maybe they’ll physically merge into their final, complete form in the finale, which will be a memorable TV moment.

Richard E Grant and Amol Rajan

The thinking mum’s bit of slash fiction. There won’t be any romantic sparks on the surface between the Withnail & I star and the University Challenge presenter, but therein lies the erotic tension. You mum will be able to project her lust for both of them onto each awkward hug and lingering glance. It’ll be like Pride and Prejudice, only better because it’ll have snazzy editing.

James Blunt and everyone

His self-deprecating wit and charming accent will create instant chemistry with any contestant he’s talking to. Not just the ladies, either. King Kenny, Rob Beckett and James will become an unlikely throuple when they coquettishly chuckle at his jokes over breakfast. Maybe, if you sit extra close to the TV, he’ll work his charm on you too. A man can dream.

Close observation of City fans reveals they fall into two camps. There are those rational, thinking beings who accept the verdict, who have entered a period of difficult reflection about how the club they love went so awry.

And there are those who reject the entire thing, who refuse to consider it even slightly, who bombastically shout down rival fans and continue to support the best club in England.

It takes not a moment’s thought to know which Noel is and which Liam is. And this is a matter on which they will be unable to find common ground.

All will take is constant probing. Questions to Noel about how City’s reputation can recover. Goads to Liam about handing their Premier League wins over to United. It’s already an open wound, but with work we can make it fester.

Then, when they’re playing at the Etihad next summer, the rift can be made unignorable. A few planted signs reading ‘City are innocent’ and ‘RKid thinks they’re guilty, Liam’ and the brothers will confront each other on stage.

They’ll fight. They’ll smash instruments. Liam will once again call his older brother a ‘potato’. It’s the performance we’ve always wanted live in front of tens of thousands, not those shit-boring songs we’ve heard a million f**king times.

Finally they will split, cancel the gigs hurting City’s revenues even further, and millions of overweight middle-aged men in bucket hats will be heartbroken. What an incredible result.

A statue of yourself

Like the one of Wayne, this will be a real conversation piece and a lovely boost to your self-esteem. Might it come across as egotistical? Not a chance. It’s a design choice popular with countless perfectly normal people like Stalin, Mussolini and Saddam Hussein. 

Funny neon signs 

These are hilarious. The Rooneys have several, including one that says: ‘Welcome to the madhouse!’ It’s funny because it’s not really a secure mental institution, it’s their house, and it’s so original too. Another says ‘Eat Sleep Game Repeat’, although that might just be instructions to remind none-too-bright Wayne to not simply stand motionless all day.

Chandelier in the hallway

A chandelier will immediately establish for visitors that you are dead f**king posh and not common as shit. The Rooneys’ appears to be two or three metres in height, but if you’re unsure what size to get, use the simple rule of thumb: could it kill a horse?

Chandeliers everywhere

There’s no excuse for normal light fittings when you can have 18th Century grandeur instead. Install mini-chandeliers everywhere, including the shed, loft and downstairs toilet. Who doesn’t love to feel like Marie Antoinette when they’re taking a dump?

Make everything cream 

Cream is the classiest colour, so all rooms should be painted cream with cream carpets. All furniture and accessories such as cushions must also be cream. You can tell if your home is cream-coloured enough if more vibrant colours like orange give you a headache. Then ensure that everywhere is spotlessly clean and free of clutter for a vibe that is wonderfully bland, sterile and – above all – cream.

A split staircase 

Not really that practical to install in a semi, but worth it for the pointless grandiosity. And great for depressed dads whose dreams have been crushed by suburban family life, who can pretend for a wonderful but fleeting moment that they’re Al Pacino in Scarface.

Games room 

Every aspirational family has one of these, and a room just for your PlayStation, pool table, Wii and so on is both practical and fun. Kids will love it, and dads too, because aren’t all men just big kids at heart? Apart from when they shag prostitutes, obviously.

YES, there have been other effusive reviews of Nigella on Bake Off. But after seeing her captivate viewers with her beauty, wisdom and wit, I have decided she must be mine.

All the ingredients we’ve come to expect – warmth, drama, ambitious creations – were there, but the icing on the cake was Nigella, flitting between contestants like a rare and beautiful butterfly. A butterfly you could own and keep if you subdued it with chloroform, but back to the show.

Nigella was unbelievably wonderful. ‘Cakes that you have to un-mould can be very stressful,’ she said, with the wisdom and humility of Jesus, but better. It was a great start to the new series, filmed in the idyllic grounds of Welford Park, surrounded by quiet country lanes ideal for inconspicuously parking a van.

But despite the praise rightly heaped on Nigella, I feel that no one could ever love her as much as me. Do they know about her passion for pickled vegetables? Or Colman’s mustard? Or double-buttered toast? I doubt it. Although to be honest I think the toast thing might be bollocks and they just put it in because they were running out of ideas. 

After the show it was even clearer to me that I must have her. When Nigella told the contestants ‘Don’t let the sugar shout, let it sing’ in a weird, uncomfortable way, I knew this was the woman I wanted to be with forever, kept at the right humidity.

But how will we be together? Her agent has blocked my number. Channel 4 refuses to forward my marriage proposals. I will have to be bold to win her heart. I’ve noticed through my binoculars she sometimes goes for a walk in the woods during breaks in filming, often with Noel Fielding. But he would be easy to kill.

And so that is my entirely normal review of The Great British Bake Off, back in our living rooms and everything fans of the show could have hoped for. Keep up the good work, Nigella. Your glass case is waiting.

Post Script has been created from Smith’s unused vocals by longtime Fall members but fans fear that without the frontman drunkenly calling them ‘f**king muppets’ while randomly turning their amps down, it may be almost listenable.

Fan Julian Cook said: “I’m hearing on the forums there are guitar solos that don’t end with the instrument being snatched away and smashed. That’s not the Fall I know.

“How can they produce anything that lives up to the band’s legacy without a moody, slurring bastard saying ‘That’s f**king Eagles shit, cock’ and firing them?

“We’re hearing these musicians are using chord progressions, time signatures and mixing the vocals so they’re audible, rather than feeding them through malfunctioning equipment that’s deliberately had a pint of Boddingtons poured into it.

“To live up to the Fall’s legacy it should have been made in the dark by musicians who have never met overseen by an aggressive Salfordian bullying them for no reason, then released under a random three-word title. Rawlplug Overfamiliar Drones would work.”

Fellow fan Thomas Booker said: “Yeah, thinking about it, I’m fine with the 31 Fall albums we’ve already got.”

“Slip those into my bottom oven” 

“It’s moist, but you’re going to need to do more to get it all the way there” 

“That isn’t anywhere near hard enough, and I’m reluctant to put it in my mouth” 

“Spatter the icing all over. Go wild. I can’t get enough” 

“There’s nothing better than the sweet explosion of flavour from a cream horn” 

“Turn up the heat and you’ll be getting something truly delectable” 

“I like a contestant who really knows when to knead and when to bring out the rolling pin” 

“I’m sure you won’t mind if I take your cherry” 

“Paul has the knack for making it rise effortlessly while keeping that tremendous shape” 

“Oh yes. Rub in the butter. Rub in the f**king butter” 

“I can do treacle or honey, if you know what I mean. Anyway, now’s not the time to be on Grindr” 

“I see you’ve got them rising in stiff, stiff peaks. But do they melt in the mouth?” 

“Want to see a real showstopper? Let me unzip my top”

“That needs to be filled with cream. Really vigorously”

“Your area bears the imprint of a pair of buttocks in flour? Well they’re not mine”

“That tartiflette makes me want to get done at both ends. Spit-roast, baby” 

“I thought you wanted innuendo? Well, the line between a double entendre and open requests to be banged is a permeable one” 

“Okay, okay, I’ll tone it down for the next episode. Genuinely sorry. How I make it up to you with a double bagpiping? One under each armpit. My treat.” 

Wayne Hayes, forester: “Danny Dyer? That’s not Danny Dyer. What do you mean there’s a girl one?”

Emma Bradford, florist: “Ah, that’s Stacey Slater, that’s Mack Boyd. Their real names? Come on now. That’s unfair.”

Denys Finch Hatton, flautist: “I’m seeing Dame Stella Rimington, Stormzy, Sir Salman Rushdie and the late Bella Emberg. Why disabuse me?”

Mary Fisher, flooring specialist: “Isn’t that our Dawn’s eldest? When did he get famous? Oh, he was in a viral clip of two men dancing on a Tube platform in June? Bit too good for this then.”

Tom Logan, floor manager: “I’m watching underground Strictly. Huw Edwards, Gregg Wallace, Pip Schofield, Russell Brand and Katie Hopkins foxtrotting around a disused car park in Basingstoke before a baying crowd.”

He uses endangered guitar picks

It’s a closely-guarded secret that Sheeran insists on his plectrums being made from parts of endangered species, with a particular preference for their genitals. His 2023 tour was responsible for seven different types of dolphin becoming extinct, hence it being known as ‘The Subtract Tour’.

He made Wagon Wheels smaller

Sheeran’s father was head of Wagon Wheel research and development at Burton’s Biscuits when the singer was a toddler. He was startled one day when he looked up and saw his son’s gingery head obscured by the mallow and biscuit treat like a chocolatey solar eclipse. He began work on reducing its size the very next day.

He confuses specific and pacific

Sheeran uses the word ‘pacific’ when he means ‘specific’, despite having been told on numerous occasions that he is saying it wrong. It’s not a genuine speech problem and he often goads underlings by using the word incorrectly then making them repeat back what he just said. Anyone correcting him is fired on the spot and told to read ‘the pacific wording of your contract’.

The Boston Incident

The Boston Incident has become so infamous that people no longer need to specify what actually happened or even whether it took place in the US Boston or the original one in the arse end of nowhere. The highly litigious singer refuses to allow any public discussion of the Boston Incident or how long it took to clean up afterwards.

He hates The Princess Bride

Ed Sheeran cannot stand the film The Princess Bride and will tell anybody who stands still long enough why it isn’t funny, goes on for too long and the soundtrack is rubbish. ‘The special effects are terrible when you compare them to a great film like Jurassic World Dominion,’ he will insist, the twat.

Ipswich Town FC

Everybody agrees Ipswich Town FC is a terrible idea, not least their actual fans who often describe supporting their team as being like watching dry paint remain dry. But a huge injection of money from the singer has compelled the club to keep going and even get promoted, forcing far more people to experience Ipswich Town against their will. Sheeran, a known sadist, enjoys this.

Following a row about Macklemore’s pro-Palestine comments, Sheeran has been left with no support acts for the remainder of his US tour but has been assured that not one member of his paying audience will even notice.

Music journalist Tom Logan said: “Even arriving when the support is still playing is a cardinal error. The experienced gigger is thoughtful enough to wait in the bar until they finish.

“Who was going to an Ed Sheeran concert to hear Macklemore, whose last hit went straight in at number 48 in 2017? Nobody. Those unfortunates securing a good place at the front wouldn’t have known who he was until Thrift Shop. 

“Musicians book a support act because it provides them with someone to be much better than as a flattering comparison. Kicking them off a tour is as momentous to the paying public as changing the drum roadie.”

He added: “Also, the efficacy of shouting ‘Free Palestine!’ at gigs has been thoroughly tested over the last 50 years and been found to make no difference whatsoever. So you’d be alright not bothering.”

Realistic tyre degradation

Gamers don’t really care about things like story and characters. What they’re interested in is whether the tyres of the vehicle they’re driving are gradually – and almost imperceptibly – losing tread as they drive. It’s an important detail, and one that will also help educate younger players about the importance of regular checks.

The ability to default on a mortgage

Robbing a bank is a lot of fun, but you should also be able to arrange a 45-minute-long meeting with an account manager called Steve to discuss your options for a fixed-rate mortgage. The previous games have never quite captured the exhilarating ups and downs of home ownership and personal financial management.

Getting stuck in traffic for three hours

Not a car chase. Not a shootout. Just sitting with the engine off gradually losing the will to live as teams of emergency service workers deal with a nasty crash a few miles ahead. Some will say, ‘Just drive on the pavement and get around it, you can do whatever you want!’ What? And completely destroy my sense of immersion? No thanks.

That thing where you try to walk past a stranger in the street but you both keep going the same way

This should be motion-captured and go on for far longer than anybody expects. Both characters should apologise and do an awkward little laugh afterwards. I have already raised this in several letters to Rockstar and will continue until I receive a response.

Muscle cramp

Halfway up a fire escape mid-heist, I want my leg to buckle. No warning, no workaround, just bad luck, exactly like real life. How am I supposed to believe in a game world if there’s no chance whatsoever my hamstring will simply seize up for no reason?

Actual prison sentences

I don’t want to just cut to a shot of my character simply strolling out of the police station. I won’t even settle for a montage of their time inside. If your character commits a robbery they should go to prison for 15 years, played out in real time, with gameplay reduced to reading, showering and lifting weights.

Stare for an acceptable period

Stare at exhibits long after you’ve got the gist and have started feeling bored. This proves you appreciate culture and are not some working-class oik who only enjoys chips and copulating. Never mind that you really can’t see what’s so amazing about a picture of a horse.

Think about sex

Gazing at a painting is less tedious if you’re weighing up which, if any, of the subjects you’d do. It’s easy for blokes at a John William Waterhouse exhibition as he was into hot redheads and Lady Godiva is naked, but a lot harder with the Bayeux Tapestry, which only has six women and they’re really unrealistic. Who knew 1066 was so sexist?

Maintain the right facial expression

Look interested and alert at all times with no yawning, sighing or glazed eyes. It’s hard but not impossible; if you’re in a relationship and can not look suicidally bored by Love Island or Operation Barbarossa for an hour, you can manage it with Degas painting bloody ballerinas again.

Cast your mind back to the cafe

Museum and gallery cafes tend to be upmarket these days, so think about things you could eat there later – the toasted paninis looked nice, maybe followed by a slice of chocolate cheesecake? You’ll be so lost in your own world of food people will assume you’re captivated by a completely pointless painting of a Dutch woman sitting in her living room.

Read the placard enthusiastically 

Show how engaged you are by eagerly reading out the explanatory placards saying things like ‘The vase depicts Heracles in the Garden of the Hesperides in the style of the Hellenistic period’. Then nod sagely and look thoughtful, instead of more truthfully saying: ‘I have no f**king idea what that means.’

Buy loads of postcards 

Nothing shows your deep appreciation of art and history like buying a load of postcards and Blu-Tacking them up in your kitchen. If you’ve been to the Bayeux Tapestry they’ll be of Normans and Anglo-Saxons with weirdly elongated bodies who are too big for their horses, so they might even make the rubbish your kids draw look good for once.