Wars would be renamed ‘Fairy Fights’

War is a bad thing. It makes people sad. It makes other people dead. Half the problem is that the word ‘war’ is great to shout in the heat of battle, especially if you have a beard and a helmet with horns.

Apart from this dude, who shouts "FREEDOOOM!"

So, if I had my way, the word ‘war’ would be banned, and instead replaced with ‘fairy fight’. This would drastically reduce the number of wars in the world, thus minimising the number of deaths as a result of the wars. Confused? Then consider these scenarios.

Scenario One

A Viking runs into battle, a Spartan legs it towards the enemy, a Marine rushes towards a group of Islamic extremists. In the old days, they’d have yelled something along the lines of “This is WAAARR!”, with a really angry face.

Under my new rules, they’d scream “This is a FAIRY FIIIGHT!” Then they’d slow to a trot, then a walk, doubled over in laughter, as they realise just how daft they sound. Their enemies would do the same. One high-five later, and the war is over.

 

*wipes away tear* "Aah, that cracks me up. Now, off to go pillage something."

 

Scenario Two

Obama and Ahmadinejad are sat at a table, trying to broker a peace deal. Negotiations are stalling, and tensions are running high.

“I must warn you, Ahmadinejad,” states Obama, sternly, “that if you do not comply with our demands, it will mean an all-out fairy fight.”

A smile snatches at the corner of his lips. Ahmadinejad lets out a little snort behind his hand. Before you know it, they’re both giggling like schoolkids.

“Oh, you know what?” says Ahmadinejad, slapping his hands against the table. “Stuff all this arguing and that. Let’s go for a beer.”

They go for a beer. World War 3 – I mean, Fairy Fight 3 – averted. Lives saved. Job done.

Arguments Will be Decided on Trump Volume

People have arguments, like, all the time. If you disagree with me, you’ve just proved my point.

Cue smug face.

Sometimes, these arguments can take weeks to resolve, hour after hour of businesspeople locked away in a meeting room, slugging it out with their words and negotiating on stuff that probably doesn’t really matter anyway.

So, if I had my way, all arguments – whether in the board room of a business, the playground of a school, or the sports pitch of a team – will be decided by who can pass wind the loudest if the two sides can’t agree. Each team will select a member to represent them.

Usually the fattest one.

The teams will toss a coin to see who goes first, and each team gets one chance to let rip the loudest. The volume and intensity of each guff is measured using one of those sound detector decibel things. The loudest fart wins. Simple.

This game takes skill: you could do the biggest guff in the world, but if it’s one of those breezy soundless ones, you’ve pretty much lost. So much as a toot from the opposition would see them crowned as victors. But neither team would care, safe in the knowledge that the world is now a better place thanks to the wonders of natural gas.

The loss of smell is only temporary, don't worry.

Many men already live by this rule, although their partners don’t realise they’ve literally just been trumped. This is the beginning of the revolution. Are you in?