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Thursday, 9 June 2011


THE number of people paying hush money to their wheelie bins has increased by 60 percent in the last 12 months, it emerged last night.

We've all been there

With more councils installing artificially intelligent bins, people with something to hide say the cost of being blackmailed could force them to give up at least one of their sordid and disturbing obsessions.

Ian, a 32 year-old from Stevenage, said: "It started last September. I dropped a bag of rubbish into the bin and turned to walk away when I heard someone say the word 'pervert'.
"I looked up and down the street, but there was no-one there so I started to walk off, but then I heard the same voice again saying 'yeah, you... pervert'.
"I then realised it was coming from the direction of the bin. As I leaned in, the bin suddenly started chuckling and said 'I know what you've been up to, with your washing up gloves and your ketchup and your over-ripe melons'.
"It then explained that £50 a week should cover it and gave me its sort code and account number so I could set up a direct debit."
He added: "At first I was very resentful and would get up in the middle of the night, heave it into the back of my car and drive it to an old quarry or leave it in the middle of a field, but it always managed to find its way home by morning. And of course when you try and pull that sort of shit with a corrupt wheelie bin, it's only going to cost you more money."
He added: "Eventually you just have to accept the situation and factor it in to the overall cost of your shameful but irresistible perversions."

The Local Government Association insists most wheelie bins are not programmed for blackmail and will usually recommend counselling, medication or a hefty dose of church.

Meanwhile Britain's serial killers have launched a petition demanding stupider bins unable to piece together the eclectic mix of clues contained in the refuse bag of a typical maniac. Roy Hobbs, from Doncaster, said: "Most weeks I'll throw away 28 Alphabetti Spaghetti tins, a dozen empty bleach bottles, three bags of feet and a copy of the Daily Mail which I've covered in yellow highlighter and exclamation marks.
"I know I should probably stop reading it. But I can't."

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