The gammon's guide to a vegan dinner party

ARE you a gammon invited to a vegan dinner party about to endure your first meat-free meal since accidentally going to a hippy’s house in 1979? Here’s how to survive.

Call everything ‘rabbit food’

Spend the entire evening cracking excellent jokes like: “This chickpea salad looks great, but now you’ve fed the rabbits, what are we having?” Don’t let the increasingly strained silence deter you from repeating the exact same joke before every course.

Make up some health warnings

A lifetime of hoovering down animal carcasses with the verve of a medieval king at a feast has left you puce-faced and addled with gout. But that won’t stop you thwacking a wobbling fist on the table and ranting about how nutritionally unbalanced vegan diets are.

BYO meats

You’re worried that your body will go into shock from the volume of vegetables in the suspicious ‘curry’ they’ve cobbled together. To ensure your delicate system gets the fix of processed salt and nitrates it so desperately craves, gaffer-tape some slices of ham to your legs to eat whenever you go to the bathroom.

Grill your hosts

By the time they’re whisking away your untouched main you should be drunk enough to be relentlessly pressing them on any inconsistencies in their life choices. “If a terrorist said they’d shoot me unless you eat a Fray Bentos steak and kidney pie, would you do it?”

End the night with a takeaway

When talk turns to bringing out the dairy-free cheesecake, it’s time to make your excuses and reveal that you need to shoot off at 9:30 on the dot, as there’s a taxi waiting to take you to pick up the pepperoni pizza you’d ordered.

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Couple agree to ruin their weekend by visiting parents

A COUPLE have agreed to write off Saturday and Sunday by grudgingly deciding to spend them with one set of their ageing parents.

Nathan and Eleanor Muir reluctantly agreed they should spend some time with the old people who spawned them if they didn’t want to be cut out of the wills.

Nathan Muir said: “We had a big row about which massively inconvenient five-hour round trip to make, which Donna won as her parents live closer to a pub.

“So now we’re braced for 48 hours of over-boiled vegetables, complaints we live too far away and a painfully detailed description of their brand new cordless vacuum cleaner with two-year warranty.

“Then they’ll top it all off with a grilling about when we’re going to give them grandchildren. It’s going to be shit. I mean, lovely.”

Donna’s mother Carolyn said: “I couldn’t give a toss about grandchildren. I just enjoy seeing them squirm.”