Even nonces have to eat

I continue to be alarmed and amused in equal measure by The Sun’s attitude to those residing at Her Majesty’s Pleasure.

When not running snatch pictures supplied by their snout in the prison housing Rose West, the good old Currant Bun specialises in feigned outrage over the luxurious treatment allegedly lavished on the nation’s lags.

“Child killers … will munch their way through the credit crunch with a series of slap-up feasts at Christmas”, it roars. “As the rest of the nation tightens its purse strings, they are set to tuck into one mouth-watering meal after another.”

Slap-up feasts indeed. Anyone would think that Lord Snooty and Pals, Billy Bunter and the Famous Five were banged up on B Wing. Lashings of ginger beer all round, as well as those mountains of mash with sausages sticking out.

The truth of the matter is that prisoners are served a Christmas lunch which may or may not include turkey “and all the trimmings”. But anyone who has been inside such an institution – and by that I mean government offices, public schools, hospitals or care homes – will know that one man’s “mouth-watering meal” is another man’s thin slice of reconstituted anonymous meat accompanied by a watery gruel and three-day sprouts.

What does The Sun suggest? That these notorious criminals should exist on a diet of bread and water? Come on, chaps. Even nonces have to eat.