Turbo Island

Upon the terrace of the Ghastly Hipster opposite Turbo Island, the denizens oblivious of St Just’s silent jeremiad smoked, curated their lumberjack beards, slurped their ethically sourced artisanal free-trade coffee. Crowdfunded eachother’s awareness-raising funding applications, funded eachother’s awareness-funding crowd-raising applications. Raised funding for eachother’s crowd-awareness applications and fund raisings. Panhandling morphine aficionados did go among them, and did regale them with tragic histories, for which those kidults betimes repaid them…

…triangular patch of grass in the angle of the intersection between the two streets rejoiced in the soubriquet “Turbo Island”. Here congregated the aficionados of white cider and jolly black tar. Gnarled, hepatically-compromised, prematurely bent-backed and stooping, hierophants of the mummered mysteries of those holy Saints Ǣthanol and Lycergus, dispensers of ars sapientiaque viarum to those civilians blessed or indeed cursed with the forbearance to endure their ministrations.

…unceremoniously bundled from the building, much to the hilarity of the topers congregating still across the road on Turbo Island. Affecting to ignore the foul execrations flung at him by those gentlefolk, he levered himself upright and, by now without his scooter, which had presumably been appropriated by some wave-particle in the fusion of anarchy, on clawed foot took his disconsolate way down the shallow slope into the city centre.…

…Croft, where at the budgerigar’s prompting her companion fluttered up from the gutter and took a perch on Turbo Island, there finding herself in the same company of bottle worshippers as normally frequented that shrine.

…a sole trader, from premises bearing that name situated directly across the junction from the Ghastly Hipster Opposite Turbo Island. The chief business of the Fascist Dictatorship of Stokes Croft was to act as a sort of sponge to soak up the many and various community grants for which Mr Crass Cheseham and his fellow truffle pigs most assiduously schmoozed the put-upon officers of the agencies which doled out the…

Without, the rain had briefly abated. Across the road on Turbo Island, a line of topers with red faces, swigging variously from cans or plastic bottles, turned heliotropically towards the meagre rays slanting in declivity overhead. The two birds sought out Hieronymus among these recumbent saints, whom the smaller of the two now addressed.

…do not know,” gasped Hieronymus, “like it put in an appearance at my place of like business on Turbo Island, in company with like a budgergger,” and then added, quite helpfully, “vor whom it zeemed to all of us halkies to be hacting in zum kind of like hagency capacity. Unaccountably familiar that one, that budgie, howsomever oy ’ave like drunk too much vuckin’ Munters Blinding Zider vor like hinspectin’…

…especially, to those adherents of the Eglise de la Bouteille, who made it their practice to congregate upon Turbo Island opposite the Ghastly Hipster Opposite Turbo Island. Lady Snatch maintained her cultural salon principally on those days when business was slow, these being increasingly frequent of late, inasmuch as the pugilistic insults wrought upon her person by Mr Francis MacMahon, with the passive connivance of her spouse, had tended somewhat…