That's exactly how to deal with them, Doc. Thankfully, I've never had to deal with them, really. But over the years with me Ma and a few other things, well, here you go... I'm staying in me Mates. The Balifs knocked a few times. When I open the door, I put the Scouse on with a trowel, wait a minute and then say... "You're assumed right of access, is denied."
It's hilarious. I do it with all officialdom... speak, watch their faces light up when they think Thick Scouser, got him, play up to it and then twat them with a bit of their own official jargon. Watching their faces crumple is near worth going through this shite. Well, it's not but it's one life's little compensations.
I know Alby will have none of it. But that's defo the way to go, read what they've said, search out the info on the computer, get a bit of advice if needed, go down and wallop them with their own rules and goobledeegook. The poor bastards being forced to front all this, don't want to know. They're just terrified of ending up sat on the other side of their desks, but even they took industrial action last year.
A mate of mine's mustard at all this. Worked all his life, heavy goods driver, proper good lad and dad, came from proper nothing, but raised he's kids right, University all that. Just a working lad, match goer, no interest in politics. Then he had a heart attack. He was knackered, and still a bit sick. A few weeks after having stints put in, they stopped his sick money. Worse thing they ever done, unleashed a monster. He's on a mad mission now, looking after every dolite in Bootle and beyond. I got onto him when they started on me, got loads of info. But when I went down there, I got a Glaswegian girl. She started off all snotty. I just looked at her and pulled a bit of a kipper. She got me drift. And soon as she lowered her DWP sheild, she became a proper person again, told me what kunts they are and got me money reinstated.
Just smile and act daft, Alby, then wallop them. They'll soon change their tune.