In the words of My Chemical Romance’s frontman Gerard Way, “We’re threatening. Unstoppable. Undefeatable. Dangerous. You can’t ignore us anymore.”

Well, guess what? I’m calling you out chappy. I’ll dump you and your saccharine vampire pals in the middle of anywhere ‘cept nowhere and I’d say you’d be about as threatening as the ghost train at the annual sunshine funfair. That, and a zillion times less dangerous. Round about the candyfloss mark, if we’re still riding the bumper cars.

If all the gunge-ridden geekboys of timeless suburbia decided to anti-spawn like the idiot frogs on my particular Barrett estate, this Spring’s unfortunate macadam crisis is My Chemical Romance. Essentially, this is Bon Jovi vs. New Found Glory as remixed by this dude. And the whole sticky mess is more disgusting than the maimed frogs that pave my drizzled April streets, rebitting on pathetically for a mate while their back legs cling like flung guacamole to the tarmac. On stale toast. Garrrrrgh.

Wait, Evil Gerard! I’m sure I’ve seen you somewhere before, too; skulking around the edges of town, eyes glued to the floor while a gang of cackling chav hyenas christen you with gherkins and strawberry milkshake outside the church of McDonald. Best scuttle along before that snot-drenched tramp on the other bench starts to get jealous, eh?