It's crunch time on the surface, but for those who live underground it's a different story.
Dick Turpin (no relation) has been living in his local sewer for six years. He moved in there one cold winter's evening after his bench was set alight by some chavs.
Aside from the smell, Dick enjoyed his new digs, finding it warmer and quieter than on the surface. And Dick isn't the only tramp living underground, an entire community has sprung up recently. Following the economic troubles caused by sloppy mortgage brokerage, increasingly more people have found shelter in these dank, dark passages which snake beneath our cities.
Thankfully for these down-on-their-luck drain dwellers, there is a light at the end of the poo-ridden tunnel they like to call home. And that light is shining brightly on all the money big companies are losing down the plughole, and flushing down the toilet, every day.
"It's a dream come true," Dick exclaimed. "I was having a shower under the nearest down spout, when a get whacked on the head by a coin. Then another. And another! Then I got knocked unconscious, but when I woke up, I was buried in a pile of money!"
But, even with his new found wealth, Dick has no aspirations of leaving the sewer.
"I've got it good here. I gots all that I need. I'm even courting to local ladies. One of them says she's Andrew Sachs' granddaughter. She's really dirty - just how I likes it!"