Man Sues Society
Such a litigious world we inhabit.
Humanity has a long and inglorious history, packed full of conniving, snivelling, sneaking, and apportioning blame to others. Yet, never before have we lived in such frivolously litigious times. So willing are people to initiate legal proceedings at the drop of a hat, the world is now forced to constantly crane their necks over their shoulders in panic, double-checking they haven’t thoughtlessly forgotten to apply their daily coat of industrially thick arse-covering that morning.
One recent episode of blatant blame-shifting has seen infamous bad boy of rock Shove-it Stevens, who has built his name on the back of his possession of a legendarily ample dangly department, sue trouser company Hotdogs for loss of reputation after his signature testicle hugging black jeans ripped during a particularly aggressive mid guitar solo high-kick, to reveal that he in fact stuffs his kecks and has built this reputation falsely through use of a semi-ripened courgette and two frozen hard-boiled eggs with pubes drawn on in permanent marker.
In an unrelated though similarly ludicrous incident, renowned ponce, erstwhile tory politician and current adventurer Archibald Anus is taking Toyota to court having become a laughing stock during his attempt to drive the total length and breadth of all the roads in France whilst naked. Choosing to embark on the undertaking in a deliberately understated Toyota MR2 rather than one of his hereditary Bentleys so as not to attract undue attention, he later claimed gross negligence on the part of Toyota for failing to warn him that MR2 read out phonetically in French spells ‘merde’, the local word for shite.
It is against this shameful finger-pointing backdrop that one man has set the wheels in motion for a move that has surprised some quarters and elicited a cry of ‘about sodding time’ from others. Alfred Sourpuss from Kettering has become the first person ever to try and sue society. His reason is a simple one, he holds the current state of affairs in the world directly responsible for turning him into a gibbering nervous wreck.
In an exclusive interview with Tentime, Mr. Sourpuss insisted, “It’s not my fault that the world is going to shit, and frankly I don’t see why I should have to shoulder the psychological burden imposed on me by this rabble of useless cunts. I didn’t choose to live, and in all honesty, I wish my dad had just callously knocked one out and I could have perished right there and then in that sock he used to keep down the side of his bed.”
Mr. Sourpuss went on to cite numerous contributors to his psychological trauma including the gathering momentum in the rise of idiotic politics, a general and flagrant disregard for the wellbeing of others through the systematic destruction of all forms of social support mechanisms, as well as the inexplicable success of mindless jizz-fest Love Island – the return to the screens of which pushed Mr. Sourpuss into a catatonic vegetative state for 6 days until he was eventually dragged back to consciousness by the smell of his own by then catastrophically soiled underwear.
He will be represented by Horace Scuzzbuckett of Swindle, Sham & Rackett’s. Although we requested an interview, sadly Tentime’s resources couldn’t stretch to accommodate the £30,000 fee being demanded for fourteen seconds of his time.
Fortunately, TV rent-a-quote and sexy academic, Prof. Uppskerte was more forthcoming, throwing the considerable weight of her reputation behind him. “To be honest I fundamentally endorse Mr. Sourpuss’ point of view. Imagine if you will, being an intelligent alien observing the machinations of Earth from afar. There would be no other option than to conclude that it was in fact populated by a rabble of morons and cretins, hell-bent on shitting on their own doorstep.”
Mr. Sourpuss insists that he is simply looking to counterbalance the crushing anxiety so cruelly thrust upon him by a world effectively sticking two fingers up at its own citizens by securing a lifetime supply of pure MDMA in compensation, allowing him to in his own words “Dance away the pain.”
