We were on the school trip bus. The driver – a bald man covered in tattoos and piercings – was getting incredibly annoyed by us.
And I couldn’t blame him.
We were singing and making raucous noise, bashing against the windows and just generally being little shits. Eventually, he pulled the bus over and got out. I followed. He took the entire engine out of the bus to examine it. It seemed even the engine had gotten fed up of us, and was feebly purring out the last of its life.
He told us to get off the bus, but less kindly. It was then we realised we hadn’t even gone anywhere yet. We all separated into our groups in an upstairs room, only to decide to go home. Me and a friend of mine walked through town, which is usually pretty dead at 8pm.
It wasn’t. Gangs of skateboarders heckled us as we walked past, circling us. From the roof of the shopping centre, people with guns filled with foam rained them down on us. There was shouting and fighting going on all around us. It was anarchy, and it was all well within the law now.
McDonalds was closed… and McDonalds is never closed… So we had to find somewhere else to eat. I knew there were a few burger joints along the promenade, so we headed in that direction.
The queue was massive. It was a decent looking food bar, only all the deals finished at different times. I was looking for a proper burger meal, but couldn’t decide which to get. I circled the bar looking at the different menus for so long that half of the offers finished by the time I got round to choosing.
Then I woke up. I never did get my burger.