The nationwide shortage of prostitutes has prompted the British Association of Serial Hooker Killers (“BASHK”)* to agree on a number of voluntary measures to arrest the worrying decline. The move was seen as a calculated pre-emptive strike to head of government regulation.
BASHK President JP Marlandy (not his real initials) said a six month moratorium was the first step in getting prostitutes off the endangered list and getting numbers back to sustainable levels. After that, licenses would be required for a three month season each summer, with stiff penalties of up to £250 for those that violently murder out of season. Undersized prostitutes would be off-limits all year round. Hooker sanctuaries would be strategically placed in areas such as Westminster and just down the road from Wayne Rooney’s place.
Mr Marlandy noted: “Members may be at a loose end during the moratorium and outside the three month season, so I suggest sublimating the desire to commit sex-crazed murder with a new activity like opera or fine art – with these new found skills a later artistic mutilation could be a shoe-in for the Turner Prize. On a less highbrow note, members could take up gardening as it is good for the soul and you’ll keep in practice for burying bodies.”
While most BASHK members considered the proposed measures a “necessary evil”, some, like Life Member Peter Sutcliffe, were aghast: “The moratorium will have a suffocating effect on prostitute hunting, and before you know it there will be an outright ban on this most traditional of English inner city pastimes. Jack the Ripper would turn in his grave, and then strangle the body in the next coffin along.”
English Collective of Prostitutes spokeswoman Jane Austin was pleased that prostitution was finally getting some legal recognition, but questioned the “nanny state” nature of the measures: “Street walking is a hard trade for hard girls. If serial killing was to be cut back, what would be next? A ban on stilettos because of the trip hazard? No hard drugs lest we overdose? Safety vests lest a kerb-crawler run us down at 3 miles per hour? We might as well all become inner city teachers … hang on, that’s way too dangerous.”
* motto: it is a gun in my pocket AND I’m pleased to see you