Barry the Benefit Bloke

Every fourth Thursday, Barry's phone buzzes with the least dramatic sound in the world—a polite little chime that means the government has decided he's allowed to exist for another month. Universal Credit has landed. For the next six hours he is, technically, a man with money. For the next six days he will be a king. For the remaining three weeks he will be a ghost who owes everyone. This is the rhythm of his life: the countdown, the explosion, the slow bleed-out, the long grey wait until the next chime. And Barry—tattooed, hung-over, permanently skint, and armed with the gallows humour of a man who has nothing left to lose—has decided to tell you exactly what it feels like. From the plastic chairs of the Job Centre that know the shape of his despair, to the sticky tables of The Dog and Whistle where a pint is both anaesthetic and best friend; from the tattoo parlour where a drunken dragon is born to the kebab shop where a king-size donor is the closest he'll ever get to a religious experience; from the hollow dawn of regret to the quiet, stubborn flicker of something that might one day be hope—this is Barry's confession, celebration, and middle finger to the world, all in one. Raw, filthy, laugh-out-loud funny and quietly devastating, Barry the Benefit Bloke is the story of a man trapped in the benefits cycle who still, against all logic and finance, refuses to lie down and die. Because sometimes the only rebellion left is to spend your last tenner on something utterly magnificent and completely pointless—and to do it with a grin. For everyone who has ever waited for that chime. For everyone who knows the exact weight of an empty wallet. This one's for you.