A white home counties roadman gets a visit from da feds

Fourteen-year-old Active J, known in his detached home as Joshua Hudson, explains how the feds set up a dead sting to bare jail him 

WAGWAN? Da feds try to bust man dis mornin’ an’ smash Active J’s network wide open. Copdem shakedown school hassembly by fakin’ doin’ commoonity policin’. 

Miss Jackson bare fell for it and let five-oh in wivout a search warrant. Gyal not even check dem’s hi-d or if dem ‘ave da school lanyard drip.

Dem feds woz gangsta sweepin’ to bare bust Active J, like man’s bruv Nines at da hairport. Him’s was harrested just for not tellin’ da cops about him’s burna phone and where him’s crib is, oh and some Class B herb. Still.

Da cops was grillin’ hassembly wiv yes an’ no questions about da so-called dangers of vapin’, an’ a fed asked if anyone got a vape? Wasteman Drilla’ pulls out his Blueberry Muffin, an sez yeah, an’ Active J got a Peach Melba. Schooldem is all laughin’, ‘cept man woz vexed at deadman Drilla grassin’ man up.

Miss Jackson then gets bare mad an’ pulls man an’ dickhead Drilla to do a line-up for 5-0 to hinterrogate us wivout lawyers about mandem’s vapes.

Man woz gonna say ‘No comment, innit’, but Miss did da really deep heavy optics an’ confiscated mandem’s vapes. Da feds must ‘ave pepper-sprayed or CS-gassed Active J too, coz man’s eyes woz bare waterin’.

But Babylon ‘ad no hevidence to harrrest Acitive J for supplyin’ Drilla wiv him’s Class V fruity pen, coz Active J said nuffink. Now man is gassed an’ flexin’ swag, free to build a gangsta vape hempire up from him’s corner shop to bare worldwide supermarkets, like yute Pablo Tescobar.

But Active J will start tomorrow, coz Miss said man has to go straight home tonight wivout a vape pen. Rank.

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How to guess which colleague is in the toilet stall next to you: A guide

THERE’s nothing worse than sitting peacefully on the bog when a colleague walks in. Here’s how to discover who the selfish, entitled bastard is.

Look at their shoes

Looking at shoes under the stall of the toilet may confirm which colleague is interrupting your flow. However, be mindful of the logistics of this. Seeing your squinting face pressed on the toilet floor as they’re straining on the bog can send out the wrong message.

Time them

The scientific approach. Monitoring the speed and efficiency of your colleague’s piss and/or shit can get you one step closer to solving the mystery. If they’ve been incredibly quick and efficient, they’re definitely not management. If they’re in the stall crying for half an hour, it’s probably the new graduate. 

Listen closely 

Office toilets are a double-edged sword. While usually uncomfortably quiet, they also provide the perfect environment for listening to colleagues’ grunts and other noises. A suppressed, mouse-like groan will be Jane who always looks nervous. A cacophony of arse noises followed by a satisfied sigh is likely to be Steve from IT, who has no social graces. (Your rigorous analysis may be unnecessary in his case, as he will inform everyone he had ‘a great shit’.)

Their ringtone

A dead giveaway. Even if you don’t know the phantom shitter’s ringtone already, an ancient default Nokia ringtone signifies an older colleague, probably Michael. Whereas Lee from sales undoubtedly has shite R’n’B as his. It’s not exactly Sherlock Holmes levels of deduction, but you still deserve a cool nickname for your sleuthing skills. Maybe Bogatha Christie.

The scent 

If you’re getting desperate, resort to analysing the smell they produce. If they’re trying to hide it with perfume, it’s probably not a man. Plus, if you can remember what they ate the day before, that will help. Memories of Sophie’s asparagus salad will suddenly come flooding back to you.