The Guardian reader's guide to dealing with burglars
IF your house alarm goes off and there’s an intruder, what should you do if you’re a soft-as-sh*te Guardian reader? Read our guide.
Attack them with your balalaika
The closest thing to a weapon in your home is either your coffee breath or one of your pretentious musical instruments. Balalaikas, bass oboes and the ukelele you play in your ‘banjo orchestra’ will all leave a burglar confused as they try to work out why anyone would own one.
Being hit over the head with a theremin may even make them think they are being attacked - terrifyingly - by aliens.
Pretend it's a w*nky event you've organised
The first thing you exclaim as you meet the intruder should be “Simon! You made it!”, then explain it’s a “strangers drop-in foodie pop-up”. As you go into tedious detail about how the turmeric infused canapés you’re serving will also boost your immune system the burglar will want to leave faster than they can say, “Will I have to buy something?”
Hit them with an entire Observer
The Observer isn’t for reading, it’s to make you feel superior when you’re dealing with a hangover in Budgens on Sunday morning. (Unless you have a strange desire to find out why Nick Cohen hates lefties this week.)
If you think you’re a liberal, wait till you hit an intruder in the genitals with the whole three pounds of left-leaning journalism and listen with satisfaction to the thieving scrote’s agonised screams.
Try to get the burglar’s life story
This could be an opportunity for a fascinating relationship across a class and cultural divide. Even if there isn’t a book in it, there’s probably a blog’s worth of content.
Be warned: your intruder may not be entirely sincere and may hug you and tearfully fabricate stories about needing to buy insulin for his dog just to get the f*ck out of there.