You find you have wandered into the blast zone of Club Kiki, standing right outside the gaping doors as the unsettling vibrations of 2010’s Top 40 ripple through your body. You take off your sunglasses and squint into the blinding lights to discern form or function, but neither will resolve.

A sharp sensation cuts through the noise - a smell that could very well be food, wafting up from a lower level of the city. You lurch away from the club and fasten yourself to a rope railing overlooking a steep pit of road. There’s a street down there in the lilac gloom, and there are definite hints of burger in that smell. Deep within your hoodie, you clench your Kiki Coins in a tightening fist of hope.

And then, belching white light onto the asphalt is a squat, solid restaurant. A massive dinner plate above its door tells you, in worrying pink letters, that this is ‘Morty’s Borgars’. It is presumably a chain of some kind, and the chain must be very popular here!

Artist: Flashfox