Over the last few weeks, from their doorsteps, the nation’s army of clappers have worked themselves to the point of exhaustion.
The doorstep clapping craze started in France, as a way of saying thank you to all those who were keeping the country supplied with cheese and wine during the pandemic. However, here in the UK we took a good idea and took it to extremes. The nation has been clapping for NHS Staff, carers, shop workers, train drivers, cleaners, teachers, delivery drivers, journalists and even politicians. Now, with chapped and bruised hands, strained arm muscles and tinnitus, they are on their knees.
“Every night we are out on the street, banging away for all we are worth.” Said Gillian Napton. “It started as a bit of fun, but now it’s torture. Little Brabantia has knocked the bottom out of my best Le Creuset, and Nate is having panic attacks. He jumps out of his skin every time he hears a loud bang. Now we are trapped, if we don’t do it, the other Facebook mums will become so fuc^in’ pious.”
No longer can the clappers plight go unacknowledged. Their sacrifice and commitment to these largely futile gestures, should be honoured by the whole country. That’s why we are calling for Britain to join together to, ‘Clap for the Clapped Out Clappers’.
This evening, at 8 p.m. we urge you to take to your front step and bang away like a coked-up Bonobo.
Alternatively, you could start supporting the people that do most of the actual work, with decent wages, job security and a fairer system. Now, where’s my wooden spoon?
Corrections and Clarifications
Management would like to take this opportunity to apologise for the typo, in the earlier version of this story, which read ‘Crap for the Clapped Out Clappers’.
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