The residents of the filthy borough called Wayward Heath were not amused.

Their new supermarket had been unveiled; it was a hulking boob of filthy concrete with grime-encrusted windows. Its brickwork colourfully tainted with obscenities and illegible scrawl.

It was clear that the architect of this ramshackle block was a student of the ‘Bugger it up before the yobbos do’ school of aesthetics. He had a point, the supermarket blended in seamlessly with the other shops of the area.

I heard one angry resident proclaim:

“It’s a bladdy outrage! The place looks like it’s already bin done over by vandals, now what are the kids gonna do wiv emselves?”