New Bank Pledges To Openly Despise Its Customers

BRITAIN’S newest high street bank has promised not to pretend to be your friend.

FuckYouScum has promised ‘an honest approach to bank-vermin relations’, offering accounts with names like Dog, Pleb and Scum Plus, as well as an offset mortgage called Your Stupid Bovine Greed Will Destroy You.

A spokesman said: “Our contempt towards customers is openly expressed. It saves us money on colourful leaflets with pictures of cartoon families driving charabancs and avuncular staff who ask you where you’re going on your shitty fucking holiday.

“We then use this money to buy beautiful things for our favourite whores.”

He added: “If you ring us and we decide to answer the phone, we won’t then send you numerous text messages asking for your ‘feedback’. We couldn’t give a dead hyena’s rotting scrotum what you ‘fink’, you illiterate sack of shit.

“Our only promise to you is that we will have a fantastic time with the unfathomable amounts of money we shall make from your pointless, constantly overdrawn, hand-to-mouth so-called life.

“We will have massive boats, elegant cars, and helicopters stuffed with delicious truffles and the kind of heartbreakingly beautiful Russian prostitutes who would have been married to handsome fairytale princes in a world less wretchedly evil than the one we have deliberately created.

“And if you try to steal our pens, we’ll shoot you right in the fucking heart.”

Teacher, Roy Hobbs, said: “What a breath of fresh air. My current bank manager acts like my friend, but I don’t think he is. I think he wants to open up my chest with a bowie knife, rip out my lungs and eat them in front of me while his staff sit around pretending to run a radio station.

“Plus, they never have any pens.”


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Inception Director Implanted Idea That People Who Don't Like Inception Are Stupid

INCEPTION director Christopher Nolan was last night accused of invading people’s dreams and implanting the sub-conscious perception that his new film isn’t just a lot of toss.

Dozens of film critics and movie-goers have come forward to say they have a fuzzy recollection of meeting the director in a Parisian café after seeing the film and agreeing with him that it was a masterpiece before the café turned inside out and a herd of 90ft-high Morris dancers clambered out the back of their dad’s 1978 Ford Cortina which was being driven by their girlfriend from school.

Professor Henry Brubaker, of the Institute for Studies, said: “Our initial research suggests that Nolan didn’t necessarily implant the idea that it’s a good film, he implanted the idea that if you say it’s a bad film you’ll look like a fanny.

“Meanwhile only four percent of the people who are tweeting about how good Inception is have actually seen it. The rest of them have been implanted with a dream that they’ve seen it, or a dream that they haven’t seen it but they know that dream really was a dream which therefore means they must have seen it.”

He added: “Or did I dream that? Or did you dream it? Or did he dream it – in my dream?

“Anybody fancy watching Carry On Up the Khyber?”

Julian Cook, film taster for the Guardian, said: “I was not a fan of Mr Nolan’s previous work because I believe that Batman should be portrayed by an actor who is keenly aware that he is dressed as a sort of bat.

“But Inception is daring and ingenious. It is The Matrix for people who drink wine.”

And Wayne Hayes, from the Independent, said: “Ingenious and daring. I love the fact that most of the film takes place upside down. Or inside its own chutney funnel.”

Members of the public have also accused Nolan of trying to implant sub-conscious opinions in their heads by sneaking into their bedrooms in the middle of night and sleeping next to them like some pervert stalker.

Tom Logan, from Finsbury Park, said: “I woke up at 2am to find Mr Nolan curled up at the foot of my bed wearing a tinfoil skull cap with a six foot length of copper wire coming out of the top which, I subsequently realised, was attached to the end of my nose with a bulldog clip.

“I screamed and shouted ‘who the hell are you and why is my nose wired up to your hat?’ but he just threw some glitter in my face, ran down the stairs, jumped into his car and roared off.

“He has a batmobile.”