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'I'm afraid your ticket isn't valid on this service,' gasps train conductor, and comes

THE conductor of a train from London to Manchester has enjoyed his sixth climax of the day by telling passengers their tickets are invalid. 

Oliver O’Connor admitted he volunteered to work on the bank holiday for the immense sexual satisfaction it affords as he gets to live out his deepest fantasy of ticket denial again and again.

He said: “Jesus, we haven’t even reached Stoke yet and I’ve got flat nuts. With a host of day-trippers who haven’t paid close attention to the terms and conditions yet to board.

“You don’t choose your sexuality, and it’s not my fault I get off on telling people their £85 ticket was actually for the service that left nine minutes later than the one they boarded, from the same platform, with marginally different branding. And get off hard.

“It’s just their faces as they go from dismissively showing me their QR code to realising they’ve got to pay out £110 there and then, no argument, no recourse. My cock’s twitching thinking about it.

“Of course, in my fantasies I shout ‘You thought you were so bloody clever with your Trainline and your SplitSave and your Delay Repay, but I am your master now!’ I don’t say it, though. Even on Avanti West Coast, we have limits.”

Passenger Julian Cook said: “He thinks we’re not in on it? If I wasn’t into submission and humiliation, why would I be on the train?”

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What to do with the rest of your bitter failure of a life now you'll never be a footballer

SINCE consciousness first dawned, you were determined to become a professional footballer. You’re shit at football. So what do you do now? 

Become an ultra

You’ll never make the team, but you’re more committed than any mere player or board member could ever be. The intensity of your love borders on criminal: tattoos not just of the club crest but specific goals, a life built around their away games, emotions dictated by their league standing, and only dating women who support Yeovil Town. So single, then.

Play over-competitive five-a-side

Haven’t turned your passion into your job? Then it can be a hobby you take far, far too seriously. Treat your casual park meet-ups with the reverence and rage they deserve. Is everyone on the team committed to coming top of the league in the South Gloucester area, or are you going to have to start f**king screaming?

Be bitter

Vocalising your resentment every time you see a footballer who made it but didn’t deserve to, whether for Chelsea or in non-league, helps remind everyone that you’ll never get over it. Loud sighs, shouted insults, and a tirade of vitriol will be both cleansing and energising, and social media will join you in a community of broken resentment.

Start a podcast

As the adage goes: those who can’t, podcast. You have the knowledge, the passion and the need to prove yourself to wang on about every match, player transfer and manager beef for hours, and there are many out there who’ll listen just to hate you a little bit more than they hate themselves. It’s the therapy nobody involved accepts they need.

Play fantasy football

What could be closer to being an actual football manager than being a pretend manager forcing your whole office to take part in your power fantasy? They’ll all realise how nakedly important this is to you and how little anything in your life – your job, your wife, your children – is in comparison. You won’t win and will cry.

Make your kids play football

Every child needs a little direction from their parents, and living your unfulfilled dreams through them really makes them work for your love. It needs dedication, so restrict all non-football related activities, chat and ambitions until your child is good enough to go pro or old enough to go no-contact.

Get into rugby instead

Switching sporting allegiances is a big life decision and, like converting your garage or telling your wife you preferred her hair before, it’s irreversible. And worth bearing in mind that rugby has its own range of clinically disappointed wannabe pros, they’re big lads, and when they’re shitfaced they get fighty.

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