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Aeon Dunkel-Schmidt strikes again
Having introduced the Life Certificate to prove we exist, is the DWP now trying to give us a helping hand with the death thing?
“What to do if somebody dies” a sub-head in my State pension ‘advice’ leaflet says. Ever since Ian Dung-Anshit took over at the DWP, things have been getting odder, but this peach surprised even me. What it tells you of course is that you ‘must’ do several things – the must-count in the leaflet was 19 – in order to make Dunkin-Donut’s life easier. Its perspective seemed to be that you’d turn first to the DWP: “Oh my God, Cecil’s dead, I must ring the Government”. But you’d think, would you not, that such an all-embracing promise of advice might include rather more than that. So here is my version (written after the irrelevant, unfeeling and pompous style of the DWP) on this bitterly cold February morning when ‘news’ of any objective kind is thus far nonexistent.
What to do if somebody dies
1. Try not to be silly. When somebody dies, it’s important first and foremost to realise that they are not coming back. A return from the lifeless space to physical life has allegedly happened only once in recorded history, and remains a highly disputed case history that can get you beheaded for mentioning it in 37 countries around the world.
2. Dispose of the body. It is illegal and unpleasantly aromatic not to do this. Depending on the religion of the stiff, there are many options. Consider:
(a) Was the cadaver a Viking? If so, you may need to buy some cans of petrol, arrange the hire of a longboat, and inform the hiring company that their boat is taking a one-way trip.
(b) Did the deceased want to be a crispy, dumped under a heap of soil, or cryogenically pumped? If either of the first two apply, you will need the services of a Funeral Director. He can supply all the lighting, cast, whispering voices and canned organ music you may require, plus black cars and a box should they be necessary. The third option is more difficult to source, and may involve you in travel to remote castles, or perhaps the studio of Mr Damien Hirst.
(c) In the case of dead Pharaohs, major construction and the assistance of Aliens may be required. See our leaflet DWP/Cadavers/Pyramid housing/47772200000055612/Gyppos for more information.
3. Don’t come looking for money from us. Dead persons are by definition malingerers and of no use whatsoever to the sort of culture we’re trying to create here. It is highly likely that, should you submit a claim for funereal cost assistance benefits, our preferred supplier ATOS will declare the cadaver fit for work which could well complicate matters further and force us to freeze your bank accounts.
4. Send us all the pension details immediately. If the mortuary meat was your spouse, you will be assessed by our Life Ownership Certification Office. LOCO will decide very quickly by how much your pension should be decimated, and test you remotely for vital signs of life. In a small minority of cases well below 87%, you will be offered obligatory assisted suicide services. Given the tragic amount of grief you will be suffering, we strongly recommend that you take up this offer, which comes entirely free courtesy of an obligatory contribution from your relatives.
Collect all the other leaflets in this series:
What to do if somebody is born; What to do if somebody is ill; What to do if somebody isn’t married by the age of 32; What to do if somebody explodes; What to do if somebody is Nigel Farage; What to do if somebody is a vibrant tangerine colour; What to do if somebody insane is running the DWP.
Last night: The more we know about the Syriza ‘deal’, the worse it looks
Filed under: IDS PLUNGES AN INCISIVE DAGGER INTO THE HEART OF DEATH Tagged: Iain-Duncan Smith Is the DWP mad or wot?