With great effort, Margaret prises her eyes open. An eerie light is piercing her blinds, and her bedside table is shaking violently. She manages to squint and just about register her jittering alarm clock before it dances off the side and crashes to the floor: 3:30 am. Mustering the courage to squint through her blinds, she sees, and suddenly, enveloped with dread, she understands. A horde of dark shadows, moving ever closer. The light begins to flash now, faster and faster, resembling a warning light, or a strobe. Rise of the Valkyries inexplicably starts playing from her tinny radio, and then, over the swelling crescendo, she hears those hallowed words: ‘DOOWN IT FRESHHEEER!’
Yep, get to the bomb shelters unsuspecting residents, it’s that time of year again! The time of year where young people all over the country get to embrace new levels of academic rigour, finally discovering like-minded minds to discuss hermetic intricacies with over a game of chess and a nice cup of tea. Or, perhaps more typically, finally discovering like-minded minds to bellow 90’s pop songs down suburban streets at half three in the morning over dangerously cheap Sambuca shots.
The freshers have arrived, and, as always, they have graciously invited street furniture along for the ride. Though it’s not just the traffic cones; it seems that this year wheelie bins are getting in on the action. The Lincolnshire echo reports that barely a week after thousands of students arrived in Lincoln for the start of the academic year, locals have been ‘plagued by students chariot racing with empty wheelie bins.’ One of the students in question recently proclaimed that this is merely a noble if slightly abstract effort to drag the Oxford boat race into the 21st century, but to be fair he was a pretty pissed at the time.
Some residents of Lincoln have started the ‘Shush’ campaign, hoping to reintroduce ‘silent nights’ to the area, but these efforts have been branded a waste of time. Many residents now enjoy putting the early hours in which they are awake to good use, by reflecting contentedly on the spiralling debt and dire housing prospects these young folk will one-day have to face, before laughing diabolically and sticking the kettle on.