We ask you: how dangerously triggered are you by foreigners doing benefit fraud?

A BULGARIAN criminal gang has stolen a record £53.9 million with fake Universal Credit claims over four years. So how unfeasibly angry does it make you, and should you call an ambulance?

Lauren Hewitt, beautician: I’m so angry I’ve just shat myself. The fact that they’re Bulgarian makes it worse, because there shouldn’t be any foreigners in other countries, ever. How would Bulgaria like it if I went over there and stole the Patriarchal Cathedral of St. Alexander Nevsky?

Roy Hobbs, plumber: It’s the worst crime a gammon like me could find out about. It’s already got benefit fraud and immigrants, so if they’d been transgender my head would have literally exploded like in Scanners

Charlotte Phelps, beautician: My blood is boiling so much I’m having to spend the day in my chest freezer. What a mug I am for choosing the straight and narrow when I could be living it up as a criminal. I wouldn’t mind the constant paranoia and high risk of losing the best years of my life in prison so I’m definitely going to pursue a life of crime now.

Martin Bishop, dentist: I’m so furious my eyeballs have popped out, but I don’t mind people stealing money. That’s good-natured fun, as we know from Ocean’s Eleven and Buster. However benefit fraud is different. Benefits are there for people who need them, who I would also put in labour camps, the lazy freeloading scum. 

Donna Sheridan, chef: I’m assuming it’s not just a random crime and it’s deliberate government policy now to invite criminals here to steal British money. I’m so angry bits of my brain are coming out, and that’s the last thing I need.

How to be shit at gossiping, by a man

DOES the minutiae of people’s personal lives somehow fail to grip you? It might be because you’re a man. Here Martin Bishop explains how to be useless at spreading tittle-tattle.

Cut to the chase

Don’t waste precious time fannying about with whispered speculation. Go straight over to the subject of gossip at work and say: ‘Molly, am I right in thinking you’ve been carrying a torch for Jamie but he wasn’t interested and now there’s a really awkward atmosphere between you? Sarah informed me of this just now.’ You will soon find people stop pestering you with gossip.

Deal only in facts

You’re a man. You like facts, you like quizzes. Grey areas are not your thing. You’re like the forensics detectives on CSI: Crime Scene Investigation. Unsubstantiated rumours that Alison gave Pete a blowjob at the Christmas do are no use to you. Tell the gossips you want hard evidence that would stand up in a court of law – video footage and traces of semen.  

Have too much empathy

You wouldn’t like it if people gossiped about you if you came home pissed without your key and defecated in the garden. So when your neighbours dish the dirt on Gary down the road, explain the bigger picture to them, eg. ‘Everyone makes mistakes. Can you say, hand on heart, you’ve never abused alcohol yourself? And look at all the terrible things happening in the world.’ You’ll actually get quite a lot of sadistic pleasure from watching their guilty faces as you put Gary’s anal mishaps in the context of Gaza.

Take gossipy phrases at face value

Gossips invariably preface their muck-spreading with the words: ‘I shouldn’t really be telling you this, but…’ Take this completely at face value and say nothing gossipy, ever. If people accuse you of sitting on the fence, say you’re just doing what they told you. This will be incredibly confusing, but probably more interesting than finding out if Lucy in marketing is pregnant. 

Be too blokey to care

If there’s an office mystery circulating that requires extensive analysis to discover the truth, give up immediately. The most you’re like to find out is if Steve’s wife has definitely left him, and there are more pressing male issues to address, such as Sydney Sweeney’s opinions on superheroes and the question you’ve been turning over in your mind for weeks – who swapped chairs with you when you were off? Now you have to sit where their bottom once sat, the bastard.

Miss the point of gossip entirely

Gossip is about the vicarious thrill of possibly knowing someone’s dark secret, and the feeling of power from them not knowing you know. It’s a lot of mental effort, so just go up to Nathan at work and say: ‘So Nath, was your recent doctor’s appointment for VD? Which one? Herpes?’ Well done, you’ve got things out in the open – which is a lot healthier than keeping secrets – and everyone knows where they stand. Especially Clare, who, if gossip is to believed, recently slept with disease-basket Nathan.