Chelmsford. Sat at a red light.

Chelmsford invented radio, or says it did, then got made a city and has been unbearable ever since. Annoyingly, it's mostly fine. The fly-tippers can't be bothered, the arsonists can't either, and it barely rains. Out of town they call it Chumpsfud, which is about the worst anyone can manage.

So Chelmsfordians moan about the one thing they've got. A ring road that somehow goes through the middle, and traffic lights that turn red the moment they see you. The buses run through the night and nobody's grateful. They'd rather sit at the lights and tell you it's a city now.

The editor, still on the traffic bulletin