A young man from north London poses proudly with his haul for Twitter: a 30p bag of Tesco Value basmati rice. Behind him, a half-blind Bangladeshi pensioner shakes her fists at the sky and weeps in the arms of a self-checkout machine as she tries to remember why she ever moved to this joke of a country. SUNDAY, 2:49 AM, WOOD GREEN
A gang of youths descends upon the Body Shop. The crazed mob makes a beeline for the moisturiser section, tearing it apart. It’s carnage: coconut butter is flying everywhere. A young girl, maybe 15 years old, slips and somersaults into a pile of blue and orange dinosaur-shaped soap. The police charge, slipping and sliding everywhere, as the stench of non-biologically tested mango shower gel fills the night sky. A police officer is later heard to say, “It was like an explosion in a coconut butter factory, with subtle hints of mango.” SUNDAY, 10:50 PM, BRIXTON
A man sits glumly on the sidelines as a post office is ransacked. “I’ve gotta come back here on Tuesday to pick up my JSA,” he whines, as 200 revellers dance in a confetti of stolen cigarettes. A police car burns in Tottenham, north London, on the first night of rioting in the capital. MONDAY, 8:23 PM, CLAPHAM
Some 14-year-old fat lads have managed to overcome the robust defences of a local party shop. “Am I the fairest of them all?” one of them asks a cobwebbed mirror as he admires his new witch’s hat. “No,” it replies. Saddened, the deprived youth grabs a Big Mouth Billy Bass off the wall and smashes the screaming mirror out of existence, vowing to bring the government to its knees one fancy dress shop at a time. MONDAY, 11:28 PM, ENFIELD
A Sony distribution warehouse is burning to the ground, and with it, the vinyl stocks of England’s finest independent record labels. His eyes glazed with the serenity of a condemned man, Steve Lamacq mumbles something about “destiny”, and then something else about “Ash”, before removing his leather jacket and hurling himself into the flames. TUESDAY, 2:13 AM, DALSTON
For three days, east London’s Turkish community have stood guard outside their taxi ranks and kebab shops, smoking furiously and ignoring their wives. Finally, they get to chase 50 wailing looters from the area with their broken pool cues, and are hailed by the media as vigilante heroes. The Turks celebrate by sharpening their scimitars and having a heroin-related tear-up with their old enemy, the Kurds. TUESDAY, 10:30 AM, WESTMINSTER
The nation sighs with relief when David Cameron cuts short his holiday in Tuscany to come home and save everybody. The PM floods the streets with 315 exhausted PCSOs, aka Plastic Police, and announces that he will personally evict looters from their council flats and throw all their children in jail. WEDNESDAY, 1:05 AM, MANCHESTER
Fifteen years ago, all these angry young revolutionaries would have been in a stadium watching Oasis. Now the only way they can get within tit-flashing distance of their heroes is by paying a crazed megalomaniac trillionaire a week’s wages to watch Beyoncé and Jay-Z parade their $15m watches at a shit-filled pit called Glastonbury. The irony is not lost on Manchester, where spotty youths ransack saxophones from Dawsons Music Shop and express their disenchantment through the medium of jazz. If you want to find out what really happened in the UK last month, we covered it extensively on Viceland.com and VBS.TV. A looted amusement arcade in Wood Green, north London. The wreckage of a burnt-out police car on Sunday morning in Tottenham following a night of rioting and looting.