Let's go down to Union Street where all the impoverished people meet around barrels brimming with green despair. They'll fidget nervously while we stare as each in turn will dip a cup lift to trembling lips and drink it up. On Union Street the barrels overflow so we'll see many rounds before we go and when they've drunk themselves blind we'll leave through a door they'll never find.
Luvgood Carp, Editor-in-Chief