Supermarkets will now only sell you only packet of painkillers at a time, and then only 16 tablets. So when I wheel my trolley up, filled with gin, a Coldplay CD, paracetamol, a bread knife, two bags of peanuts and a stout length of washing line, it's the tablets that get pulled. "Can't have you killing yourself," the checkout girl laughs. "Actually, I'm going to trigger anaphylactic shock with the peanuts, swallow a pint of gin, slash my wrists and jump off a chair with the washing line tied to the roof beam, but I'm not doing it until Sunday and I've got a bad back SO CAN I HAVE MY FUCKING TABLETS BACK PLEASE ?" Of course, this measure has prevented all suicides in Nether Winterbottom, where Mrs Wiggins runs the village's only shop and has a memory like an elephant, where there is no rail or bus service, no taxis, and the only way to get into town is on the back of a flatbed with six sheep and twenty-three pissed up young farmers, and that's only every other Thursday. Everywhere else, would be suicides just buy one pack of aspirin at each of Tesco's 37 identical check outs. **Late breaking news, I am informed that Mrs Wiggins has alzheimers, and now rings everything in to the till as catfood, potential pill poppers of Winterbottom rejoice!!**