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We’re back, and we’re hear to help! This time, with our fixee wants help to lose weight without stripping all of the joy from their life. Can we help? Well, it’s been a while, but we’re oiled up and we’re fixing to fix.

We're back.

This week’s fixee has taken upon themselves the thankless task of caring for and aiming to improve the lot of a sexless chap from the internet. That’s right, it’s Incel Great Expectations here at We Will Fix You, with Incel Pip, our good-hearted fixee as Old Joe, and here’s us as Magwitch, just trying our best near some sheep.

This week’s (year’s?) fixee has demanded we shake off the dust, cram our plague masks with posies and set off into the world in search of fixes. The problem? They fancy their best friend’s ex. The solution? US.

It’s a tale as old as time - you’re doing a work because capitalism demands you sell your dignity at the market rate, when your boss starts to micromanage everything you do. Of course you’d turn to us. Because we’ll fix it. And we’ve got a chart!

It happens to us all - a slip of the pen or keyboard, and quite the wrong message is conveyed. In the case of this week’s fixee, they are locking themselves away to meditate, only to later say it was something… quite different. Can we help? Oh, but we’ve got three robust and sinewy fixes waiting to go.

Look. You don’t like it, we don’t like it, but sometimes people need help with other people and their inability to pee correctly. Just… in the right place. At all. The big porcelain bit. So yeah, here we are. Helping. With all the pee.

When we were young, we were taught that it would be the most important thing in the world to have clear, neat handwriting as we would be doing so much of that in our important adult jobs. Well now we have those and it turns out the only writing we do is cryptic graffiti about wasps on the toilet walls. But I digress, this week’s questioner wants to return to their writing stamina of old. Can we, even in these technological times, return them to the strength of the scriveners of old? You’d better f*****g believe it, treacle.

This week’s listener doesn’t know when to stop clicking on Twitter’s recommended accounts, and through plenty of fault of their own is now in a race against Twitter’s algorithm and their own capacity for “erotic joy”. The Algorithm may destroy their horn, and they have turned to us, in the dying days of 2019, for help.

This week’s listener knows that particularly modern malaise that comes from having someone confuse their email address for your own. The gift cards, summonses and death threats meant for a total stranger are piling up and so they turn to us for help. And help we shall!

But every single time, every single person is going to ask them, so teeth-achingly politely, for what they’re proposing as an alternative that one of two things will happen.

Our listener is concerned about their nephew, who has recently developed a fascination with the ceaseless rows of teeth found in beloved mascot Sonic The Hedgehog. They would like us to do something about this, and we’ve come at this one from all angles, medical, spiritual, doing nothing - all bases are covered.