WAR OF THE DJs AT LOLbnb

A peaceful Saturday evening that escalated into the closest thing Britain has ever had to a musical arms race. Nobody knows exactly how the War of the DJs began. Historians at LOLbnb generally agree it started sometime between the arrival of DJ Nigel Thunderbottom and the moment DJ Sasha Boom-Boom described his vinyl collection as "cute." Witnesses report that Nigel immediately looked as though somebody had insulted both his grandmother and the entire county of Yorkshire. The original plan had been simple. Nigel would perform in the Oak Room from seven until nine. Sasha would perform in the Garden Pavilion from nine until eleven. Ravi "The Human Playlist" Patel would spend the evening ensuring nobody accidentally connected a toaster to the sound system. It was considered an excellent plan. Like many excellent plans, it survived approximately four minutes. At precisely seven fifteen, Nigel increased his volume by what experts later estimated to be "quite a lot." Guests enjoying soup suddenly found themselves experiencing soup in stereo. Mrs Featherstone's spoon began vibrating gently. Trevor from Leeds declared this "an absolute belter of an atmosphere" despite not knowing what was happening. Not to be outdone, Sasha responded by activating six moving lights, four laser units and enough smoke effects to convince several guests that the hotel had become mysteriously attached to a volcano. Her assistants described the display as immersive. Barry from security described it as "a bit much." Ravi attempted diplomacy. Armed only with a smile and a radio, he suggested that perhaps both DJs could lower their volume slightly. Nigel responded by playing a twelve minute remix of a song nobody recognised. Sasha responded by introducing indoor fireworks that technically remained indoors only because gravity was doing most of the work.

By eight o'clock the competition had evolved beyond music. Nigel unveiled what he called The Wall of Vinyl. It consisted of several hundred records displayed behind him like military decorations. Sasha retaliated with a twelve foot illuminated backdrop featuring her own face. Several guests briefly assumed she was running for Parliament. Meanwhile Sophie the travel blogger was documenting events online. Her updates included phrases such as "situation developing rapidly" and "multiple bass drops reported." Within an hour thousands of followers were monitoring the conflict. One viewer from Australia asked whether the United Kingdom had officially declared rhythm. The true turning point arrived when Trevor from Leeds wandered onto the stage after two lemonades and a dangerous amount of confidence. Nobody knows how he reached the microphone. Suddenly he was requesting songs, introducing strangers as celebrity guests and claiming to be Festival Director of Northern Europe. Astonishingly, people applauded. At nine thirty Nigel played an old disco classic. Sasha responded with modern dance music. Ravi accidentally blended both tracks together while attempting to prevent disaster. The result was unexpectedly magnificent. Guests began dancing. Staff began dancing. Barry danced. Even Margaret was observed tapping one foot, an event roughly equivalent to a solar eclipse. The rivalry evaporated almost immediately. Nigel admitted Sasha had excellent energy. Sasha admitted Nigel had excellent music. Ravi admitted he desperately wanted a holiday. For the first time all evening the DJs stood together behind a single console and produced something resembling harmony. The party continued until midnight. Mrs Featherstone won a dance competition she had never entered. Colin held three emergency meetings attended by nobody. Trevor distributed business cards identifying himself as an International Entertainment Consultant. Nobody had the heart to correct him.

The next morning everyone agreed it had been a wonderful evening. Nobody could explain why. The official report contained fourteen pages, six witness statements and one melted smoke machine. The conclusion simply read: "The DJs fought. The guests danced. Trevor became something. Nobody knows what. Management considers the event a success and will absolutely never allow it to happen again." Which, at LOLbnb, is usually how annual traditions begin.