Stop the Press

MAN DOES NOTHING OUT OF THE ORDINARY

Central Glasgow was rife with absolute normality yesterday after an unidentified man — who can't be identified for unidentifiable reasons — proceeded to go about his daily business with complete unremarkableness.

As ever, our journalistic instinct as sophisticated as the adverts we cram into every spare inch of our paper, we leaped tactfully onto the case and amassed all those gory details that you readers just LOVE to soak up in all their size-72-font resplendence.

In a wholly unprecedented chain of events, nothing unprecedented happened whatsoever. The unidentified man — whose unidentifiableness we previously identified as unidentifiable, and who will now be referred to as Mr. U. — proceeded about his daily business, acting it out with such realistic regularity that one might be led to believe that there actually was nothing scandalous going on at all — therein lies the scandal.

We spoke to a certain Ms Wallace, shopkeeper of thirty five years:

Aye, he comes in tae ma shop every mairning - a'ways five minits 'fore nine, wi'oot fail - an' buys nae much... A pockit of crisps fur the mairning munchies ah spose. Yesterday was nae different, the day was nae different an' the morra'll be the same. I'm naw wan fur gettin' friendly wi' ma customers but come oan: the only thing ah ever say tae him describes a quantity of change in the region of fifty pee. Wance it was sixty, yous shid be daeing a story oan that—

[And if that's not enough to satisfy your insatiable apetite for worthless gossip, you can read the rest of the interview online.]

After pouring over more hours of CCTV than there are episodes of Taggart we were forced to come to the scandalously unexciting conclusion that in fact, yes, a single man in the whole of the second biggest city in Scotland leads a life less eventful than a re-airing of an episode of Taggart.