Hatfield

Known locally as Shatfield, Hatfield is so completely devoid of any culture, identity and fun that its student population seldom stays after finishing University. Fortunately, most people who have neither lived nor studied there have never heard of it, which is one of the few things in its favour.

Every other house looks like a German war bunker, except less clean and spacious on the inside. The majority of these are rented to students, since nobody would want to live there long-term. Rubbish does not make it to the dump between tenants; dirty bedding, beer cans and planks of wood are left on the street or in front gardens. Mould spores have also been fashionable in Hatfield bathrooms for many years now. But if student homes aren’t your thing, it gets worse: the two high-rise monstrosities of apartments erupting out of the already ugly town centre like the heads of a hydra, the homes of junkies and illegal immigrants.

Like virtually all other activities, shopping in Hatfield is no fun, as every shop other than Asda is like Poundland in terms of product type and quality, except the ‘goods’ cost over £1. If you do go to Asda, it is advisable to beware of gormless shoppers, whose brains become so exhausted at reading long words (like “ham”) that they need to stop suddenly every few minutes to gawp into space.

Also, walking in Hatfield is generally frowned upon, due to the recent popularity of mugging, rapes and bottling people outside the Town Inn. Furthermore, the only nightclub is closed throughout most of the Summer, the only building of historical interest closed throughout the Winter. Oddly, however, an ice-cream van is available all year round, playing its nails-on-blackboard chime late into the night.

Future developments include an incinerator on the outskirts of town, to drown out the smell of piss with the smell of burning rubbish.

Charlotte

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