Twats in crisis as UK runs out of X5 number plates

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Absolutely terrible people robbed of ability to confirm just how fucking awful they are

There was a crisis amongst twats today with news that Britain has run out of number plates that start with X5.

“This is an absolute disaster,” wailed one cretinous glass of cock juice. “How will people know that the obnoxious SUV that I’ve chosen to blow £885 a month on is an X5 if I can’t have it written on the number plate?”

Other inadequate, milky shits were equally aghast at the news. “What is the point on me borrowing heavily in order to have five-year-old arsewagen that is the unpleasant-looking manifestation of my failings as a human being if I can’t have the model name on the number plate?” grunted one while parking diagonally across the pavement and putting the hazards on so they could go into a Sainsbury’s Local and jump the queue because they’re only buying seven lottery scratch cards.

The fucking idiotic X5 plate drought is also bad news for the country’s personalised registration dealers, according to one old rope salesman we spoke to in return for money. “The X5 plate crisis is the worst news for us since 15 years ago when we ran out of plates that in some way appeared to say S2000,” he explained. “Without being able to relieve absolute fucking morons of £1095 in order to have the model name of their car on their plate what are we going to do for income? There just aren’t enough M3 drivers out there to make that side of the business viable so we’ll have to rely on grunting knobwits who both want their stupid name on their car and are so thick they think a G looks like an S”.

Worse still, experts fear that without a ready supply of X5 plates, normal people may be unable to identify the shitty SUV that is parked illegally in a disabled space outside a hospital or has just cut them up driving into a petrol station through the exit road. “If it doesn’t say X5 on the plate how will people know what car it is that contains the very dregs of humanity attached to an over-sized watch?” asked Sergeant Dave Pleecemun of the police. “What other means could there be for knowing what model it is? Some kind of, I don’t know, badge?”