Some readers will be all too familiar with the wasteland that is a London high street at 3am on a Sunday morning. And that image is precisely what appealed to us about this pair of dirty desperados, with the living dead hot on their heels. (Let’s just say that no self-professed zombie flick is complete without the bumbling sidekick, either, or a sprint to put Usain Bolt to shame).
But, we wondered, have they actually been out in Kentish Town itself, an area not immune from late night zombies, with the apocalyptic vision that rattles out of The Forum in the small hours? That’s when the post-gig troops swell the streets and, amidst the chaos, it’s difficult to tell if they’re yelling for brains or trains.
Watch the ad again and cast an eye over the splattered jeans, bulging veins and angsty expressions. Is that Pete Doherty and friends dragging themselves across the horizon?
In fact, we reckon our heroes have had one too many in Shebeen and now, like the typical late night Oyster card experience, their getaway vehicle is running on empty. Otherwise known as – thanks Chevrolet – ‘range anxiety’.
But whether they’re victims of a zombie attack or simply late-night revellers, most of the capital’s males who find themselves on a street corner at 3am will be hoping for the same thing: a heroine to whisk them away from it all.
And as for range anxiety? Well, it’s the least of their worries.
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