meshmass meet the neighbours

The dreadful MESHMASS, murderous riff-merchants, inventors of deathpop, creators of calamitous noise, manufacturers of black disco, purveyors of sonic malignancy of any sort either imaginable or not and principal exponents of terror-hop are stricken to admit that they have neighbour trouble. The normal policy of exterminating all life-forms within a 500 metre radius having inexplicably failed, and efforts to employ the adolphian death-ray also proving fruitless they are faced with the dreadful prospect of living beings occupying nearby residences. And what beings! People made of balloons, I tell you, sausage people. A man with a head like a pink traffic light, a man so red in the face that he glows at night, suffusing the area with a roseate glow. We got a letter from the council which claimed we were committing a nuisance and alleged that our art was in fact no more than anti-social behaviour in fancy clothing. The mere fact that this is true has not prevented us from taking…. measures…. Hordes of zombies and ghouls have attacked the Housing Department, laying siege to the building and holding up placards with the single word ‘slogans’ written on them. This is nothing to do with us, oh no, and was definitively not achieved by contact with demonic forces or by conducting secret rites in the dead of night. A simultaneous distributed denial of service attack by invisible cyber-warriors was also nothing to do with us but has nevertheless caused the shutdown of all Local Government websites in the South-East of England. The sky has gone black and it is unseasonably cold. There is a nationwide strike. The government are introducing an emergency bill imposing new measures in the face of unprecedented threats to national security. Iraq has fallen to the Islamists. I have made some shortbread.