(An excerpt from a strange manuscript, apparently for some kind of theatrical production, found during building work at Paddington)
LONDON: In order to even leave my expensive, expansive sprawl, you must allow hours to get to the station. You must run through nameless corridors, be bashed against by nameless people, and miss your train by twenty-two seconds anyway. Sweaty and hungry and thirsty and carrying All Things, you must then pay peak rate for an entirely new ticket.
TATTERSDILL: You are the worst of cities, and only an arch moron would contemplate taking up residence with you. Noting myself amongst the arches, then, I pay your exit tithe gladly, and so depart. [Exit, stage West.