Christa Pike, 50, is in critical condition after surviving two lethal injections in Tennessee on Wednesday. Her lawyer, Brenda Rivers, said the state had ‘tortured’ her client and demanded an inquiry. The Tennessee Department of Correction said the first injection ‘failed to insert properly’ and the second was ‘interrupted by a technical fault’. You, reading this on your telephone, have never seen a proper execution. You have never seen a man hanged with dignity. You have never seen a strimmer used with purpose. You are a gobshite.

The old days and the old ways

When I took over this paper in 1982, we had one channel, one bread and a sense of shame. We also had standards. An execution meant something. It was efficient, respectful and conducted in a lay-by near Didcot with the headlights off. You would not understand. You were not there. You were probably not born.

“We had a system that worked,” said Sir Nigel Pargetter, former Permanent Secretary at the Department of Efficient Departures. “You turned up, you did the job, you went home for your tea. No fuss. No second attempts. Twat.”

What we had, and what you have destroyed, is dogging. Not the act itself, you filthy-minded little tick, but the principle. A car park at night. Headlights off. A quiet understanding between adults. That is what held this country together. Now the old car park at Didcot is a Starbucks and the young are on their telephones looking at other young people being murdered in America and calling it progress.

The state of Tennessee should be ashamed. They are not. They are a bunch of wankers. Pike’s lawyer says her client was tortured. She is right. Two injections and the woman is still alive? That is not an execution, that is a shambles. In my day we did not have ‘technical faults’. We had a rope and a man who knew how to use it. Pillock.

A proposal for a new method

I have given this considerable thought, which is more than the Tennessee Department of Correction has done. The answer is the strimmer. A properly maintained petrol strimmer is quick, clean and satisfying. It is the British way. It was good enough for my father and it is good enough for a convicted murderer from Knoxville.

“The strimmer is a metaphor for justice,” said Dr Alistair Crumb, Senior Lecturer in Applied Retribution at the University of East Anglia. “It cuts what needs cutting and leaves the rest alone. I have written a paper on it. Nobody has read it. Twat.”

You do not understand the strimmer. You have never held one. You have never felt the two-stroke engine shudder into life in your hands, the smell of petrol and cut grass, the sense that you are doing something useful. You are a complete nob.

I have already purchased a Stihl FS 40. It is in my shed. I am waiting for the call from the Tennessee authorities. They will not call. They are cowards. Twats.

The modern world gets it wrong

The botched execution of Christa Pike is not an isolated failure. It is the NHS. It is the railways. It is the BBC. Everything is broken. The only thing that still works is a strimmer, and even that needs a new spark plug.

“We are conducting a full review of our execution protocols,” said a spokesperson for the Tennessee Department of Correction. “The equipment malfunction was regrettable and we are committed to learning from it. Gobshite.”

You have never changed a spark plug. You have never even seen a spark plug. You would not know which end of a screwdriver to hold. You are the reason this country is on its knees. You and your telephones and your feelings.

Pike deserves a dignified death. Not as dignified as the one I would give her with my strimmer, obviously, because mine would be perfect. But dignified. The woman has been on death row for thirty years. The least they could do is finish the job properly. Instead they have made her a celebrity. She will be on the news. She will be on your telephone. You will look at her and feel something. You disgust me.

The final judgment

I have been practising my strimmer technique in the garden. I have never felt more alive. I have strimmed the borders, the lawn and the neighbour’s cat. The cat survived, but it is now very tidy. That is the mark of a true craftsman. Restraint. Precision. A steady hand.

“Mr Trout’s methods are unorthodox but not entirely without merit,” said Professor Dame Fenella Bream, Chair of the Royal Commission on Capital Punishment (Abolished 1965). “I would not recommend them. I would not condemn them either. I am eighty-nine and I no longer care. Total wanker.”

Send her to me. I will do it properly. I will do it in the lay-by near Didcot, with the headlights off. That is how we do things here. That is how we have always done things. And if you do not, I will find you. I will find you and I will strim you.

You have been warned. Twat.