Public demands Toby Jones be knighted instead of that real bloke

THE public has demanded a knighthood for Toby Jones, hero of ITV’s Mr Bates vs The Post Office, rather than the real Mr Bates the show was based on.

Suggestions that Alan Bates, who led the campaign which exposed the widespread miscarriage of justice, should be knighted have seen the public demand that any honour should go to the real hero.

Tom Logan of Lincoln said: “This johnny-come-lately Mr Bates who’s claiming all the credit? He didn’t even write the screenplay.

“At best he did a bit of stuff the screenplay was based on. But if we’re being honest most of the work there was done by Fujitsu and the Post Office, because there’s no show without wrongful convictions.

“And while Mr Bates has been messing around for years trying to get justice, Toby Jones played the lead in one four-part ITV drama and got action in less than a week. That’s heroism.

“I think he should get a knighthood and also be elevated to the House of Lords. Against his will if necessary.”

The Cenotaph, and other places Britons would like there to be a Wetherspoons

WETHERSPOONS has announced plans to open branches in Haven holiday parks. It’s a good start, but there are many more places where patriotic, booze-loving Brits would like to see a Spoons.

The Cenotaph

Wetherspoons regulars tend to be passionate about our war dead, and after eight pints of Stella they’ll be so emotional they’ll be blubbing about the Somme, how Britain stood firm during the Battle of Britain and the nag who died in War Horse. Not to suggest this is in any way performative, but after 12 pints they’ll probably be sobbing over the selfless bravery of René from ‘Allo ‘Allo!.

Hospitals 

Whether it’s for an endoscopy or getting a finger sewn back on, going to hospital is rarely a fun experience, so a few jars in an NHS Wetherspoons would cheer you up, and shite as Spoons’ food is, it’s still better than what hospitals give you. If you’re of a laddish persuasion, you may also wish to chat up any attractive nurses, and you’ll stand more chance of pulling if they’ve got a few drinks inside them. Although a catheter does cramp your style a bit.

Crematoriums

At every funeral service you’re assured the deceased would prefer you to remember happy times with them. Which you could have more of if the coffin was in a Spoons. If you drank enough you’d probably forget they were dead, which would be a great comfort to the bereaved.

EU headquarters in Brussels

A Spoons in the dark heart of the EU would be one in the eye for Michel Barnier, assuming he’s still around. Brexiters would make the pilgrimage every year to get pissed, commit minor acts of vandalism and celebrate things like taking back control of our nonexistent fishing industry. The EU would look pretty stupid, or they might not give a toss. Either way you could get pissed fairly cheaply, and that’s a kind of Brexit victory in itself. (It’s best not to be too picky about ‘Brexit victories’.)

Soft play areas 

It’s misleading to call these places things like ‘The Happy FunTime House’ when the opposite is true for parents. There’s probably no other situation in which you need a drink more than a ball pit full of snot-dribbling, screaming toddlers, so all play areas should be located in a giant Wetherspoons. The drive home might be a bit fraught after 11 pints, but it all adds to the day’s excitement.

The Imperial War Museum 

This exists to celebrate our success in WW2 and the Germans being rubbish. A few pints are just what you need to really appreciate how bloody great Spitfires are, and there’s even the tail of Rudolf Hess’ Messerschmitt Bf 110 from when he flew to Scotland in a fit of delusion to try and negotiate peace with Britain, so you can have a good laugh at him with your mates. Haha, Hess, what a twat.

The Tate Modern

It’s extremely hard to argue that a Sarah Lucas exhibition of incomprehensible junk wouldn’t be better after seven pints of Old Peculiar, and even the most earnest Guardian reader trying to like art has to admit it gets boring staring at modernist coloured squares. The solution is simple – turn the Turbine Hall into a Wetherspoons. It would attract a less elitist clientele, and the exhibitions could reflect that – maybe ‘The Art of Die Hard’ or ‘Baroque Nudes Who Weren’t Too Fat’.