Jersey Lifts Turn to Scooters to Avoid Ball-Ache from Government

THE INFAMOUS Jersey Lifts squad has hit back at angry taxi drivers by picking up people on scooters, reports claim

Many islanders have jumped to the defence of the Jersey Lifts organisation after taxi drivers got all sad because people started to realise that charging £50 to go from St Helier to St Ouen is fucking barbaric.

Blake Dempsey has yet again appeared atop the Toad at Charing Cross armed with a message for the people of Jersey. We were lucky enough to grab a quick word with him:

“It all started after my work’s party. I jumped in the taxi and politely asked to be driven home, because I was obliterated before 8pm and I couldn’t risk being fired from another finance firm.”

“Due to the fact I was sending hilarious Snapchats to my squad, I had failed to notice that the taxi meter had gone from £6.10 to £48.70 in a matter of minutes. Obviously, because I’m a law abiding citizen, I paid the sum. However, what I didn’t realise was that I had been dropped in St Ouen and not Prague, which is where I’d expect to be after paying £50.”

After Dempsey had cooled off with a £5.80 bottle of Rekorderlig, he unveiled his plan to tackle this problem:

“I think maybe it’s because cars have laws and rights or something? So, the taxi people get angry because we’re mistreating the cars, like how I always forgot to feed my Tamagotchi.”

Since his traumatising experience, Dempsey has been hard at work devising a logical solution to this problem. Before unleashing his concept onto the roads of Jersey however, he needed to test his new plan. His friend Dan was the guinea-pig in this scenario:

“Dan was slightly thrown when I rolled up to his gaff on my scooter covered in No Fear stickers from 1998 whilst blasting out Sum-41. But, he’s an optimistic lad, so he hopped on the back of my scooter, and assured me he had the indicators and brakes covered.”

“Obviously, cars come with loads of cool stuff, like tunes, heating and chairs, and I’ve compensated for this.”

“My scooter is a natural convertible, and it’s covered in stickers, so, babe-magnet credentials are immediately confirmed. Chairs are for the old, you can sit when you’re dead, so standing is required. Maximum capacity is 3 maybe 4 depending on size and weight. There’s also a side-cart option, wherein you’d connect one of those hoverboard-electric-swag-scooter things onto the side. Though, this is only a prototype, and the swag-scooter-bitch-board is specifically reserved for the friend you like the least.”

“Tunes? I’ve sellotaped my SONOS speakers to my chest (safety first) and my boy Dan is on DJ duty, he’ll be hanging from back blasting Skepta and DJ Khaled as we fucking lace it down Queens Road at 90mph just like Ed Sheeran in his new song.”

“Except, Sheeran’s a pussy, Queen’s Road ain’t no country lane, it’s a massive hill with a sinister roundabout at the bottom.”

In Dempsey’s eyes, safety is paramount. He states that he has already experienced the dangers that come with his innovative new concept and is working on fixing them:

“We did encounter one minor technical fault. When travelling at 90mph down Queen’s Road, and having nothing but your heel pressing against a tiny wheel to stop you from meeting Hitler in Hell instead of lovely Gemma at The Yacht, shit gets a bit too real.”

“If braking does become too much of an issue, it is the duty of the shotgun-driver to supply pillows, bubblewrap and other forms of plump soft stuff to save us from our otherwise immediate deaths. And before anyone asks, obviously we wear helmets, we’re not animals.”

Despite what Dempsey calls ‘minor’ flaws, he is confident that his idea is the most suitable and professional way to tackle the prices of Jersey taxi fares.

“It’ll work, of course it’ll work, and if they somehow ban scooters, then we’ll use bicycles, they ban them, we’ll use tricycles, then pogo-sticks, space-hoppers, Segways, the wheel, the list is endless.”

Our final question addressed the controversial concept surrounding payment and money. Dempsey simply replied:

“Money? What money?”