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TOURIST TRAP
Madeline Green

I’ve lived in this town for seventy-four years. For the past twenty I’ve watched it turn into a parody of itself to please the hordes of pompous city hipsters who travel here every day. It all started when someone ‘discovered’ our little slice of heaven and decided to put it on a blog, raving about how ‘authentic’ it was. Ever since then it’s become a magnet to oh-so-humble millennials desperate to look down to Earth whilst on a weekend away from their swanky inner-city apartments. Bleedin’ hypocrites.

            So me and some other disgruntled residents decided something had to be done. With every fresh wave of visitors sweeping in on tandems or in Renault TWIZYs, this town lost a little bit more of the idyllic quality that had made us never want to leave. We chipped into our life savings and opened up a perfectly quaint, utterly adorable little café. We understood the psyche our of customers: how they loved shabby chic, but not actual shabby, how they loved ‘rustic’ food, as long it was organic and gluten-free. The list of their hypocrisies went on.

            Opening day was a smash hit. We sold out of all our homemade (bought from the local supermarket) cakes and biscuits, and word spread fast amongst the hipster community that our little business was a ‘must visit’, unless they wanted ‘major FOMO’. As our success grew, it was time to implement our plan.

            It started slowly – one or two scones would be laced with the stuff – and customer numbers began to falter. Then all the avocados on toast were spiked. Next came the taco-croissants (we had to appeal to their desires to see foods that shouldn’t go together). Soon, everything we sold was crammed full of laxatives. Within weeks we had gone from talk of the town to barren, and we had never been happier.