Local staff nurse Nicola Pinkside and her compatriots were accosted by police in the overgrown concrete Hertfordshire shithole and forcibly ejected from the so-called town. “Apparently we’d smashed up a pub earlier in the evening,” said Pinkside, “but frankly I think I’d remember that.”

A spokesman for Hertfordshire Constabulary said, “It’s obvious these Cambridgeshire girls were to blame for the pub-destroying incident. No-one from Stevenage ever does anything violent ever.”

Stevenage suffers from a high level of violent crime compared to the surrounding area, and it is thought the local rozzers are keen to blame all the borough’s problems on intruders from the more salubrious county to the North. “I think we can close the book on every unsolved nan-mugging and midnight shoeing in the area,” said Pc Ras Prince, “as it’s clear that we’ve now removed this violent Cantabridgian faction.”

St Neots councillors responded by demanding Stevenagers look “in the fucking mirror” to find all the criminals they could ever want.

Reports in national doom-monger the Daily Mail today suggested that ladies – and we use the term loosely – aged 11 to 15 are now knocking back more alcohol than their male counterparts. Predictably, the paper went on to blame the problem for an increase in underage sex and named Britain the “abortion capital of Europe”.

But lads in St Neots are not so sure. “It’s crap, isn’t it,” said year 9 Ernulf pupil Marc Immodium, 13, who lives in Brampton Gardens. “I’ve been out every night this week and I know I’ve put away more than any female you care to mention.”

Ignoring for a moment his likely exaggerated claims of drinking a litre of Chekhov, three cans of Special Brew and a retail outer of blue WKD over the course of an evening, the Citizen got doled up in it’s finest Kappa to infiltrate the gang of prepubescent lushes roaming the streets and playgrounds.

“Why aren’t you pissed yet?” slurred Lisa Wiley, 14, who we encountered in the Riverside Park. “Some sort of poof or what? I’ve done three bottles of gin tonight I have!” Swigging from an Evian bottle – a favourite trick used by skinflint adult drinkers to smuggle vodka into pubs – the Citizen was able to keep score. (Our bottle was still filled with overpriced water, but as predicted the young drinkers assumed it was Smirnoff and didn’t question us.) Wiley and her shrieking pals had, in fact, shared two cans of Fosters and a can of Red Bull between the seven of them, and then stated that they did indeed feel wasted.

Moving on, we would have visited favourite teen watering hole the Wrestlers, but owing to an unexpected Wetherspoons opening it had closed down again. Instead, we sat on the Market Square looking moody, until a gaggle of underdressed fifteen-year-old Longsands students approached. “We’ve been trying to get in the Priory,” said one, Jenny Raytor, of Sandwich Road, “but the bastard bouncers on the door won’t let us in. I showed a bit of cleavage and everything, but they were having none of it! Wankers.”

She went on that her and her four friends had downed nine bottles of Lambrini and a bottle of apple sours before leaving the house, but further investigation revealed that they had in actual fact just passed around a single bottle of Kopparberg. “To be honest,” said Raytor, “I have my suspicions that it was the none-alcoholic one. But don’t tell them lot or I’ll be the laughing stock – they all think they’re drunk.”

The night continued in similar fashion as we encountered a group of boys swigging Carlsberg in the Cambridge Street car park. Not seeming too ruined, Dan Tay, 16, told us, “I’ve probably had about three or four cans, that’s enough for me really. I’m not in to all this too much, but you have to put a face on don’t you, so the locals have got something to whinge about. I mean, if we walked past a group of women and didn’t discuss loudly how many brown bags we’d need, they’d think something was wrong.”

And this explains it. Teens are all skint, especially without their EMA, but wanting to look hard in front of their mates greatly exaggerate the amount of liquor they’ve consumed in an evening. And not wanting to get left behind, girls aren’t drinking more than boys – they’re just claiming that they do.

Story by Francisco Sanchez and Billie JD Drynkar.

In a statement today (Thursday), council leader Julia Wayward revealed that, despite sitting to the west of Prime Meridian, St Neots is in fact approximately six minutes ahead of GMT.

“The Meridian line crosses through Cambridgeshire,” said CERN spokesman Guillaume la Trec, whose organisation’s Large Hadron Collider of Doom is rumoured to be beneath the Market Square. “In fact, it crosses the A14 near St Ives, to the east of St Neots, meaning the town ‘as always been somewhat behind ze times.”

However, with faint mumblings about the curvature of the Earth and the magnetic pull of Little Barford power station, la Trec’s team have been able to demonstrate that St Neots is, in fact, roughly six minutes on from GMT, and seven minutes fourteen seconds in front of Cambridge.

“The ramifications are of epic proportions,” said council spokesperson Holly Davidson. “Technology companies relocating to St Neots can make sure they are always one step ahead of the competition, by getting to the office six minutes early.”

Councillor van der Whitevanman added, “Imagine when our cinema is built and can show the latest releases six minutes before everyone else. This will be brilliant for the local economy. The extra traffic will devastate the High Street though.”

Not everyone was pleased with the announcement. “The introduction of Ouse Mean Time means that I’ll have to reset my watch every time I go to work in Bedford,” said Jellicoe Place man Simon Harlem, 28, “and that’s going to get right on my tits.”

The town’s publicans were up in arms as well. “This means we’ll have to shut earlier than pubs elsewhere,” said Lee Fosters, 19, of the Corner House, “and we’ve already got that fucking Wetherspoons to contend with – it’s just not on.”

The payment of up to £30 a week was introduced by Labour to encourage teens from poorer backgrounds to stay on in education, despite the fact everyone had always managed without it before.

Local licensees were horrified. “Our core customer base is aged sixteen with a fake driving license,” said Amrit Singh of S&S Superstores, in Cornwallis Drive. “Without EMA, they’ll not have any money to spend on superlager and White Lightning. My profits are going to drop sharply – I may have to close.”

Out-of-town pubs were expected to fare even worse. “All the pubs in town have bouncers who actually check proof of age,” said Mick Waite, 62, retired former landlord of The Wheatsheaf in Eaton Socon. “That means all the young ‘uns drink in Eaton Socon or Eynesbury – well, ever since the Wrestlers stopped serving thirteen year olds fishbowls of ‘Squashed Frog’!”

It is estimated that payments to St Neots teens total around £60,000 a week, 80% of which is spent on alcohol and cigarettes, with the rest going on expensive trainers. “It ain’t on really,” said Longsands sixth-former Lucy Diamond, 17. “Without EMA I’ll have to resort to what teenagers did in the nineties: pinch their mum’s vodka and water down the rest of the bottle. That just seems a bit underhanded to me. And with the price of cigarettes going up on almost a weekly basis – well, I’ll be switching to rolling my own any day now, which is totally unacceptable.”

Self-thinking Eynesbury councillor Terrence Dougall backed the calls. “It’s not just offies that’ll suffer,” he ranted. “If these future alcoholics don’t have any cash, I predict total anarchy as secondary school pupils stab grans for cider. Also, sales of Alka Seltzer and ibuprofen will drop sharply as hangovers decrease, so our chemists will feel the pinch too. The Government needs to look at the bigger picture here. WKD-swilling kids are vital to the recovery of the economy.”

Education Secretary Michael Gove was unavailable for comment.

The new Wetherspoons cheap booze emporium, which opened before Christmas to an enthusiastic reception from hard-up Neotians, instantly developed a reputation for staff who – having been badly trained – are incapable of trying to pull a pint, and leave you waiting up to thirty minutes while they serve whoever shouts the loudest.

“We’ve been here two or three times a week since Christmas,” said drinker Marcus Alexanders, 23, “and the service has been fucking appalling every time. Last week, we had to clear our own table when our burgers came out; they haven’t got a fucking clue.”

Ignoring the clear “you will be thirsty” message and instead concentrating on the “change from a tenner” benefits of the discount distilled products pourer, McVities eschewed as usual the delights of the Priory today (Thursday) and travelled to the Gash with associates Aaron Foxes and Trevor Bourbon for a lunchtime booze.

However, as they approached the bar, they were warmly greeted and instantly served an expertly-poured pint by one of the members of staff. “We sort of stood around in shock, innit,” said Foxes, 28, an unemployed biscuit maker who lives on Eynesbury Manor. “I’d snuck a bottle of ‘water’ in in my pocket cos I thought we’d have to wait a good twenty minutes as usual. Thursday is market day, after all, and I was thirsty after a long morning of looking at sub-par J-cloths.”

McVities, also 28, is thought to have been further agitated by the lack of off-tasting beer. “Normally he sticks to bottles,” said Mr Bourbon, 30, of Eagle Court, “cos the draught is often less than fresh. But I had four pints of Fosters and reckoned it was alright. Dave weren’t happy. Bottles cost a bit more, innit.”

Bourbon, also an unemployed biscuit manufacturer, formerly of Corby, continued, “I think the final straw came when our food came out inside ten minutes and there wasn’t anything missing, or anything there we didn’t order. Like fucking mushrooms, for example. Ugh.”

McVities was, luckily, already unconscious when a member of staff trained in first aid noted his predicament and competently and ably assisted him whilst calling an ambulance. “Really,” said Foxes, “you don’t expect this from ‘Spoons. We were a bit taken aback.” McVities is expected to make a full recovery.

A member of staff, who did not want to be named, said the team member who had so professionally attended to the three friends had been dismissed and that service was now back to normal.

Local historians were today hailing the recent radar mapping of the old Priory site a success having discovered several important artefacts.

Artefacts dating back over 500 years were removed from the site to be catalogued at the nearby Council offices. Famous local historian Henry Tibbett commented, “We have found the remains of sticky carpet, a broken urinal, some dried vomit and some music by the medieval duo Dark Lace, well known for their crap tunes in the 1400′s.”

Uncultured

He went on, “It would appear that the nightlife in St Neots was just as shit 500 years ago as it is today.”

Management of St Neots premier nightspot The Priory, in the Market Square, were said to be pleased they were keeping up with the local tradition of providing a terrible evening’s entertainment.

Stella Fosters, manageress of the venue which is soon to alienate 90% of its customer base by instituting an over-21′s, no-trainers policy, commented “Sticky carpets, puke, crap music and broken bogs are all part of the experience we try to give our valued clients.”

“We can also boast excessive waiting times to get a drink, bad language and fat women in leggings,” she continued. “Of course, 500 years ago you could smoke your clay pipe indoors but I am pleased to say you can now have a smoke in the freezing cold and wet looking like a twat on the Market Square.”

Uncovered

Council Leader Julia Wayward was said to be very excited at the news as there was now firm evidence of ‘crap pubs’ going back centuries. “Continuity is vital, as are maintaining standards, people need to know what they can expect,” she said in a statement earlier today. “It certainly dispels the myths of great nights out to be had in days gone by.”

Unsafe

Small fragments of coloured glass found at the site have now been confirmed as part of a stained glass window, the Citizen was told exclusively today. It had been thought they had formed part of the 1431 Christmas lights display that fell down injuring a dwarf juggling jester taking part in the festivities.

Referring of course to the recent Worx closure Miss Dington chose to gob off even though no one, least of all The Citizen, could give a blind toss. In fact most right minded people gave a sigh of relief once the place shut it doors forever.

The Citizen sent a reporter out onto the street to see if Miss Dington’s claims of “confusion and loneliness” were in any way valid.

“What you fucking looking at?”  screamed one passer-by as our reporter approached a bunch of scrotes outside The Corner House. Asking for the groups perception of the socio-economic and facilities/benefit impact of receivership closures of local franchises our reporter was set about mercilessly.

Speaking from his Hinchinbrooke hospital bed he said “she might have a point – they did seem rather tense.”

Ray Winstone was unavailable for comment.

This week it was announced with much fanfare that the formerly popular venue, closed down by Teeth-Moss Entertainment in favour of the rubbish club across the road, would be re-opened by Mr Yoshimi, thereby allowing local drinkers to return to the slightly more pleasant venue that everyone whinged about losing a year ago.

However, at the last minute it was revealed that the building was “not ready” and residents would have to wait another week – which is exactly what happened when Worx was due to open a year ago.

Local binge-drinkers were feeling let down as the club announced the delay on Facebook. Polly Kerman, of Berkely Street, gave the Citizen déja-vu by saying “Hunch Taverns have been saying that it’ll DEFINITELY be open on the 10th, so it was fairly obvious it wouldn’t be” which is more or less exactly what she said about Worx.

Excited as we are about the return of the grotty barn which used to serve us at 14 years old, The Citizen is also sitting smugly back after it’s prediction that “Worx will charge an entry fee, meaning a maximum of three people inside at any one time” was proved to be correct.

Ignoring the fact that the Priory seemed to be busy as ever, a spokesman for Teeth-Moss Entertainment, who own the venue in the former Job Centre as well as similarly-doomed Stripes Bar & Grill in South Street, said “It just wasn’t viable.”

“People have been staying in,” he continued. “A tenner to get in and drink all night isn’t much, but we regularly had an empty club, we couldn’t understand it.”

The Citizen pointed out that the club, which opened a week late in July 2008, had no atmosphere, a sticky dance floor, shit music, piss-covered stairs, a rubbish smoking area, and a bizarre policy of closing at 12.30pm if attendance was low – just before all the other pubs kick out – but Teeth-Moss refused to budge, saying “we had a good VIP area”.

Local drinkers, who have long bemoaned the loss of former venue Shots & The Warehouse, with their much-missed central courtyard, were shocked. “Fark me,” said Nene Road resident Jason Ranham, 22. “Eleven months? I’m surprised the shit-tip stayed open that long!”

“Has it really been almost a year already?’ wondered Stacey Casey, 18, from Lindisfarne Close. “I only went twice and it was so awful I instantly forgot about it.”

Another recent casualty of the recession was rubbish dance pub Mix Bar, which has swiftly recovered under new management by turning back into it’s former self The Wrestlers. The Citizen caught up with Mix Bar’s previous landlord, Dave Breville-Toaster, at Huntingdon Job Centre. “Well it was the recession wasn’t it,” he said. “Nothing to do with the fact that I turfed out hundreds of regulars because I don’t like greebos.”

The latest pub to ignore the mantra “if it isn’t broken, don’t fix it” is the Pig ‘n’ Falcon, formerly the Falcon, opposite the Wrestlers, formerly Mix Bar formerly Wrestlers, in New Street, formerly Old Street, in St Neots, formerly Eynesbury, Cambridgeshire formerly Huntingdonshire… Watch out for our report on this new Real Ale pub coming as soon as one of our reporters fancies a pint.

Initial findings have shown the town’s inhabitants to be “quite sick”. Most people were unaware of the checks being carried out on them, and therefore the findings were deemed to be true and accurate.

• 25% were found to be “fair to middling”
• 25% were suffering complete and absolute apathy
• 45% were suffering from aggressive “I went to London once so fuck off” syndrome
• 4% were unsure – and should be in solitary confinement
• 1% thought to be aliens.

Along with suggesttions on how to improve the future health of the town’s residents, the report mentions ways in which the town has already begun improvements. In particular, an unnamed councillor said that “The many and varied gift-card shops in the town centre could only help combat this general depression”. Indeed, the council has designed a range of cards targetting the sector of the population suffering from “Fuck Off Syndrome”, to save on difficult conversation. These include:

• “Do you want some?” (Tick list)
• “You and me, outside” with date & time confirmation slip and return envelope
• “What the ___ are you looking at, you ___” (left blank for your own comments).

The design of these cards is hoped to bring about a calmer, less shouty town centre, thus attracting more visitors to the town. However, this could all be to no avail. Traffic calming and the relocation of the recycling centre could cause such traffic congestion that it drives otherwise sober citizens to drink – or even Huntingdon.
Story by JW