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What's the worst that can happen? Let's just see...

After watching a soft drink ad, Copperfield pledges to apply its maxim to the rest of life. So bring on the stupidity. Because what's the worst that can happen?

After watching a soft drink ad, Copperfield pledges to apply its maxim to the rest of life. So bring on the stupidity. Because what's the worst that can happen?

You've probably seen the ad campaign for "Dr Pepper" – that slightly odd cough-syrup flavoured tooth-rotter that used to be known as "The Hard Soft Drink".

Basically it encourages us to risk 60p and buy a can anyway even though we probably know that we aren't going to like it, with the tag line, "What's the worst that could happen?" Apart from being 60p down, that is.

And if you buy a can, and the worst does happen, well, you've only got yourself to blame.

Now I'm all for protecting children, the mentally frail and cute puppy dogs from the consequences of their actions. But there comes a time when you just have to make a decision and whatever the results, cope with the fallout.

Like Mrs B, the Marlboro Queen, who told me that she doesn't plan to give up smoking because she read on the internet that eating strawberries prevents lung cancer. Or the people who are desperately hawking private prescriptions for anti-virals around the pharmacies near Harley Street to get a supply of Tamiflu or Relenza (or both).

You know it's pointless, the pharmacists know it's pointless and the drug companies know it's pointless. The problem is that we're the only ones not making money out of it. And don't give me the "but we'll run out of supplies and have none when we'll really need it in Winter bullshit".

I don't know how many doses an industrial size tablet press can knock out over six months but I'm going to guess that a single factory working double shifts could make enough to treat every man, woman, child and cute puppy on the planet without breaking sweat.

There's been a time in every parent's life when they've looked their kid in the eye and said, "You want to be treated like an adult? Then behave like one."

So the next time somebody wants to do something really stupid, I'm going to let them. If I'm on the plane and some drunken asshole wants to try to open the door to let some fresh air in, that's fine by me, just so long as we can hand out some blankets, strap the regular folk into their seats first and pop out the oxygen masks before she does, in case by some million to one shot, she succeeds.**

I mean, what's the worst that could happen? It might get a tad chilly for a while, we might have to lose a bit of altitude before we can get the door shut again and a few in-flight magazines might end up scattered along the aisle but, hey, we'd all be one car up in traffic on the road from the airport into town.

[**In fact she'd have no chance. Emergency Exit doors open inwards… and the difference between cabin pressure and the outside air would be far too great to overcome ]

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