“People were visibly weeping in the Squib building, and the editor locked himself in his room all day throwing furniture around. It has been a terrible time for us, we were so looking forward to going down to Pontins for our Christmas party,” sub editor, Mike Hunt, said whilst weeping into a soiled handkerchief.
Pontins, which as a British tradition, is famous for its cockroaches, vomit stained bed sheets, fecal matter smeared walls and nasty attitude from the staff.
“That was the charm of the place. You go there, get totally blootered, then relax in your flea infested mouldy room. You can only go to that place when drunk out of your f*cking mind, if you’re ever sober, that’s when it gets really bad. Imagine waking up sober in someone else’s vomit with cockroaches all over your face? You’d be distraught if you weren’t drunk,” Alan Titmunch, one of the Squib’s features writers said.
“Pontins is the only place where you have to wipe your feet on the way out of their chalets,” another Squib writer quipped.