Who could possibly have killed Yevgeny Prigozhin?

THE leader of the Wagner mercenary group has been killed in a plane crash, but could this be more than a mere accident? Could it be… murder?

At first glance, it seems like nothing more than one of the frequent mishaps that so often befall wealthy Russians with ties to the Kremlin, likely caused by overindulgence in vodka.

But there are already dark mutterings that this sudden, unexpected crash was no ordinary drop from 28,000ft to ground in 30 seconds. That the plane may have been brought down by foul means. That the seemingly innocent death of Yevgeny Prigozhin could be murder.

It seems preposterous. Who would have the motive to kill this popular military commander, long a hero in his home of Russia and in the many African countries his mercenary army rules with an iron fist?

More than that, who would have the means? Who could have known the flightpath of Prigozhin’s private jet and the hardware to bring it down with a surface-to-air missile? Or the connections to sneak a bomb disguised as vintage wine on board?

Prigozhin was not a man without powerful friends. And perhaps one of them, such as Russia’s president Vladimir Putin who despite recent reports of a rift between the two is no doubt horrified, will investigate.

Perhaps he will discover there were dark forces at play. A grudge settled. A slight avenged. Or perhaps he will find this was simple mechanical failure and nothing untoward happened at all.

Until then, the death of Prigozhin will remain no more or less than a total mystery.

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Should you sext someone who just wanted a ham and mushroom pizza? A guide for arseholes

A THIRD of 18 to 34-year-olds have been inappropriately texted by staff at takeaways or delivering parcels. Here’s a handy checklist to read before sending customers a picture of your cock.

Did they show any romantic interest in you?

It’s notoriously hard to read the signals that someone is attracted to you, but in this case they were on the phone ordering a lamb bhuna and mushroom rice, so the answer is ‘OF COURSE THEY F**KING DIDN’T’.

Did a parcel recipient interact in a suggestive manner?

If they opened the door, signed for the parcel if necessary, said ‘Thank you’ and closed the door again, it’s possible they were not craving sex. Although in fairness it’s easy to mistake erotically-charged comments like ‘Hope the rains stays off!’ for raw sexual desire.

How did the customer behave in the takeaway?

Prolonged eye contact can be a sign of attraction. However prolonged eye contact with the pictures of pizzas when they come in to pick up their order just means they’re hungry. They do not want to f**k the pizza. Not after they’ve paid an astonishing 18 quid for a bit of dough and some pepperoni.

When you order food yourself, do you have sex with the takeaway guy?

The answer’s ‘no’, isn’t it? When your Chinese banquet arrives you don’t invite the driver in for a blowjob, do you? Only a twat with a tragic addiction to PornHub videos would think that’s a common occurrence. Ah. This is starting to make sense.

Did the customer say anything flirtatious?

Flirtation typically involves being super-attentive and paying compliments. If your entire conversation was ‘Three pieces of chicken and a Coke’ they’re either (A) not flirting, or (B) really f**king lazy when they’re trying to get someone into bed.

How would you feel about someone sexting your mum, sister or girlfriend when they just want some Szechuan noodles?

Don’t say ‘fine’ because that is a pathetic lie. Unless you have the same understanding of morality and civilised behaviour as a hyena. Which, if you’re sending sexual messages and possibly pictures to terrified strangers, is admittedly likely.

How did the homeowner take delivery of a parcel?

If they stood there in a see-through negligee while licking their lips lasciviously and stating that their husband was ‘away on business’ and they were ‘feeling randy’, that is unquestionably a come-on. However you’ve got more important things to think about than sex, because you’ve somehow become trapped in a shit 1970s sex comedy.

What would you recommend as a side-order with pizza?

Garlic bread, spicy potato wedges, or a picture of an engorged penis, specifically yours. Or some coleslaw.