Yorkshire and Lancashire having pointless Tier 3 rivalry

PEOPLE from Yorkshire and Lancashire are demanding their Covid restrictions are tougher than those in their rival county.

The two counties want to outdo each other in the latest lockdown, after years of competition in rugby, football and the 15th century War of the Roses that is totally irrelevant to the modern world.

West Yorkshire resident Roy Hobbs said: “So we’re going into Tier 3? Good. That’ll show those red rose ponces our Covid’s as good as theirs. In fact we’ve probably got more of it. I hope so.

“I’d like us to be in Tier 4 or 5, while they’re stuck in Tier 3. We could be forced to wear a gas mask 24 hours a day, or live in hermetically sealed concrete bunkers eating cold emergency rations under a flickering striplight. 

“Sadly that might not happen, so for now I’d like to see troops on the streets summarily executing anyone without a mask. The Yorkshire Regiment, not the Lancs, obviously.” 

Lancashire resident Martin Bishop said: “If Yorkshire’s in Tier 3 I’d like us to be way ahead in Tier 8, although I’m not sure what that would be. Maybe you’re locked inside a metal box with a bottle of water and some crisps.

“Our whole street’s been coughing on each other to get our tier higher. Hopefully they’ll put up roadblocks like in a virus disaster movie. We’ll beat the white rose scum.”

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The middle class guide to a working class Halloween

YOUR Halloween celebrations speak volumes about your social class. Here middle class mum Ellie Shaw tells you how to avoid looking terribly common.

Don’t fill your house with Poundland tat

Working class people love light-up spiders, nylon cobwebs and cheap animatronic ghosts from Poundland or some other bargain hellhole. Frankly they deserve it if a flashing LED pumpkin catches fire and they all go up in a fireball of toxic plastic fumes.

Stick to the theme of Halloween

Plebeians do not realise that All Hallows Eve is about witches and the supernatural, and mix their cultural references horribly. If someone turns up to one of my Halloween parties dressed as the Joker or Woody from Toy Story I tell them to leave and not come back until they look passably like a zombie.

It isn’t Bonfire Night

I wish common folk would desist from setting off endless fireworks. It completely ruins the spooky atmosphere of me brilliantly reading an Edgar Allan Poe short story by candlelight to my children Anton and Portia, which is both educational and enormously fun.

Halloween is NOT about getting drunk 

Halloween, or the ancient Gaelic festival of Samhain as I like to call it, is not just an excuse to drink gallons of Stella Artois. It’s about reflecting on concepts of mortality, rebirth and our pagan past. Admittedly last year I threw up on our dog dressed as Dracula, but that’s different because it was a £14.99 Sardinian Soave.

The horrors in their gardens

A distressing trend I’ve noticed is large plastic skeletons, which they no doubt refer to as ‘skellingtons’, and inflatables of Frankenstein’s monster or similar. By contrast my M&S sausage rolls shaped like mummies just scream ‘sophistication’.