Does waiting 10 hours to see an A&E doctor count as a crisis? Take the Tory party quiz

THE government refuses to accept the NHS is in crisis. Are they lying or are you being an entitled whinger for expecting hospital care after a heart attack? Find out with our quiz.

Does spending 70 hours on a trolley in a corridor count as hospital care?

A) Yes. It’s fine to be catheterised in a public place by a weeping student nurse. It’s still a medical setting, right?

B) No. It’s unsafe and undignified but Rishi Sunak doesn’t care about that because he goes private. He probably gets his own Playstation and extra-comfy slippers.

Would you be happy being turfed out of an ambulance into a hospital car park?

A) Yes, because most people calling ambulances are pathetic snowflakes who could do with some fresh air.

B) No. I understand there’s no room in hospitals, but if it was okay to keep patients outdoors you could drop them off in a supermarket car park and call it ‘Asda General Hospital’. 

Do you want to die while lying in a puddle waiting for an ambulance?

A) Well, it’s not ideal but I hate immigrants so I’m prepared to put up with it if I can keep voting people like Suella Braverman in.

B) No, but given the amount of excess deaths happening due to delays I’ve invested in some waterproof trousers so I can die in comfort.

Can it all be blamed on the pandemic?

A) Is that what Steve Barclay says? Well, obviously he’s right. He’s definitely a stand-up guy and not some useless bastard doing bugger all to help.

B) No, but they’re clearly going to keep using that as an excuse for every f**k-up from Brexit to a Tory MP putting a new conservatory on expenses.

Do you think the Conservative party is brilliant?

A) Even a rabid right-winger like me can see that the country is in a state but if it stopped Labour getting in I’d let them shoot me in the face. Even if there’s a six-month wait for bullet wounds nowadays.

B) F**k off.

Mostly As: You don’t think the NHS is in crisis, but that’s because you’re currently sitting on a comfortable sofa reading the Telegraph. Come back and do the quiz again after you’ve broken a hip putting the bins out.

Mostly Bs: You know the NHS is in crisis and are terrified of injuring yourself. Cover yourself in bubble wrap and stay at home for the next three months. Things might have improved slightly by Easter.

Sign up now to get
The Daily Mash
free Headlines email – every weekday

What teachers really get up to on an inset day

THE kids would be back at school already if it wasn’t for the pesky inset day. But what are the teachers actually doing during their training?

9am: Anger management class

Not getting paid enough while being called a knobhead by an annoying little shit called Tyler is enough to make anyone furious. This session teaches techniques to process anger, such as primal screaming and installing a dartboard in the staffroom with a picture of whichever arsehole is this month’s education secretary attached to it.

10am. Mindfulness and the PTA

Yes, the PTA are all super-keen nightmares that badger you relentlessly but their bake sales and raffles are all that stands between the school and financial ruin. A meditation guru will teach affirmations like ‘Lily’s annoying mum Carole means well’ to repeat while visiting your mind palace.

11am: Juice and a biscuit

11.15am: Dealing with non-teachers

People who have other jobs assume that teachers are lazy bastards who work half the year and knock off at 3.30pm every day. This is hard to bear when the truth is that you graft until 11pm every night planning lessons and get flu the instant the holidays start because you’re so burnt out. Learn how to mutter ‘Get f**ked, you moron’ under your breath while smiling pleasantly.

12.15pm: Lunch of turkey twizzlers while ignoring the salad bar

1.15pm: Coping with your nickname

Children are cruel and heartless, and their nickname for you is even more so. You’ll be shown how to deal with being called things like Queen Hitler or Paedo Pete for no discernible reason, including the use of copious amounts of wine and that dartboard in the staffroom.

2pm: Milk and a nap

2.30pm: Swapping subjects

You’ve got a PhD in advanced mathematics from Oxford, but when history teacher Barry calls in sick you’re going to have to take his class whether you like it or not. You might not have a clue about early 20th century history, but fear not, this session will teach you critical skills like digging out a DVD of Titanic and pressing play.

3.15pm End of lessons and a crafty fag round the back of the science block