Featuring a bunch of sad middle management types with false aspirations, not only of grandeur, but of humanity in general.

Excerpt “S.M.’s appearance in the bar didn’t attract any unusual attention, he always had the look of a nondescript bag of shite, but the smell that constantly preceded him made everyone in the bar immediately start looking for the tramp who had shit himself and whose crotch would be swaying slappingly between his thighs. It was a smell that had the subtlety of a Mackam town crier.