Ritual:Forced out, they took the streets, staggering en masse towards the lights. Karen fell over and the crowd went wild. ‘C’mon, we’ll go to Jo-Jo’s!’ They zagged the road. Horns punched; bonnets thumped. Reformed chicken, lamb and beef, a world of eats on an illuminated street. [ We’re Open - Hygiene Rating: One Star. ] Grease lined strip-lights zapped an interior of ketchup red and mustard tan. A blackened mop relaxed alongside a bucket of matching fluid. ‘Double cheese burger with chips and a Diet Coke™.’ ‘Go large for 50p?’ ‘Yeah, yeah, yeah.’ Formica™ curled wearily from the countertop, cut deep into its skin [ RICKY ]. Hot chips melted snuggly into a polystyrene tub. Head back, her jaw scaled the tower of bread, flesh and cheese. Sauce ran down her wrist, lettuce clung to her lip. Twas the feast of Saturday night.