White middle-class schoolchildren relieved to be conversing in roadman slang again

BRITAIN’S white middle-class teenagers attending excellent schools have slipped effortlessly into speaking like Jamaican roadmen again. 

The offspring of the privileged, all of whom are forecast to achieve top grades, have re-established their roadman identities after long summers of enunciating correctly.

Year nine pupil Joshua Hudson, known on the streets as Active J, said: “Man’s gassed to be back. Summer was bare dead being dragged around forests, learning shit.

“Mandem crew gonna be bustin’ da drive-thru at lunchtime. Not had Maccy Ds for time, bruv. Been scrannin’ nuffink but falafel and hummus at garden parties wiv the parents’ golf gimps.”

Charlotte Phelps, who the crew knows as Charley the X, agreed: “Gyal had to go glampin’ in da Hindonesian jungle. Me and my fam, in a big tent, had to listen to them two parents do sex for two whole weeks. Was rrrrank, bruv!”

And Max 01, whose parents call him Oliver O’Connor, said: “Wha’gwaan cuz? Not peng being back in dis uniform clone drip ting! Had nitty harcheological dig trip, brushing pottery and shit, heducational. Trashed my Air Force, blud. Man so vexed.

“Nang be back flexin’ wiv my mandem tho, innit. Them wasteman parents and their fake-arse life-shit ting been controlling man all summer, but now man’s bustin’ swag! Latin next period still. Aight?”

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'£5 per twist of the pepper mill, you hear me?' says Rick Stein, holding customer up against wall

A CUSTOMER who dined at one of Rick Stein’s restaurants described just how strict his controversial policy of paying for condiments really is.

While eating at St Petroc’s Bistro, Nathan Muir was horrified to be confronted by the celebrity chef after innocently putting some pepper on his dinner.

Muir said: “I got a bad feeling when I walked in and noticed that the cutlery was chained to the table. And when my wife asked for one of those squeezy ketchup bottles for her cod and chips, they took her watch as security.

“But I thought no one would mind if I put a little bit of seasoning on my prawn linguine, you know, like is normal in a restaurant. However, as soon as the crack of the pepper mill echoed around the restaurant I knew I’d made a mistake.

“Instantly, Stein was at my table, puce-faced with fury. He grabbed me by my lapels and demanded that I hand over a fiver or I’d be paying with my teeth instead.”

When asked about the charges, Stein blamed inflation, saying: “Look, the cost of living affects us all, even multi-millionaires who charge 30 quid for a basic fish curry.

“Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to brandish this broken snooker cue at someone I saw smuggling in their own sachets of brown sauce.”