Set by Leonora Casement

We asked for a novel from the future set in 2011 that contained as many anachronisms as you could fit in.

This week's winners

You certainly had a lot of fun with this one. There was a large number of clean trains and buses that ran on time which must tell one something. £5 book tokens for the two compers whose entries are excerpted at the end. Hon menshes to Gerard Benson and Sid Field. The winners get £25 apiece, with the Tesco vouchers going, in addition, to Derek Morgan

Homeward Bound
As always, Darren (he loved this aristocratic-sounding name) enjoyed his homeward commute on the clean, uncrowded Tube.

He opened his New Statesman, turning a little guiltily first to the Page Three girl, then the competition page to see who'd won this week's thousand-pound prize. But his mind was really on the slap-up organic family dinner they'd planned at McDonald's as a surprise for son Shayne, to celebrate his Asbo (Advanced Scholarship Before Oxford), the Open Sesame to a great future. After that, they'd all sit around the television, amiably disputing whether to watch BBC1 for the Jerusalem Post editor, John Pilger, on the Palestinian menace, or the the new Albanian opera on Sky.
Barry Baldwin

The Great Turnaround
It was the year the magnanimous British bankers fed billions into the failing economy, raising the national mood several notches. Unemployment became a distant memory. The looming energy crisis melted into air as soaring wind turbines graced the national parks and fusion reactors came on to the energy menu. Money was at last available to build adequate flood defences to cope with the changing climate. The almost valueless pound was saved as Britain finally passed eurozone entry requirements. Romance was the mood. Young King William, newly married to his dazzling blonde commoner, succeeded to the throne after his grandmother's abdication and his father's incapacitation owing to an unfortunate organic farming incident (accidentally falling into a vat of Duchy original biscuit mix). The nation sang and danced.
Shirley Curran

The Romantic Weekend
At last, George's much-needed Eurostar weekend break was under way. The Circle Line whisked him direct to Waterloo, where the iconic bronze of reunited lovers triggered a momentary pang that he hadn't asked Jill - but non, he could have No Regrets. At W H Jones, he bought a packet of Spangles, two Marathon chocolate bars and an Old Statesman magazine, pocketed two pounds change from his fiver note, and decided to while away the time before departure at the News Cinema which was a feature of all the capital's rail termini. An hour, several cartoons and a newsreel later, he was admiring the gleaming diesel-powered locomotive and boarding his train. He tingled with excitement. Culture. Romance. Intrigue. This would be his first ever visit to Ebbsfleet.
Derek Morgan

Political Meltdown
Magneto 88 got off the monorail at GUM to buy a pack of Acapulco Gold at its Stoners' Bar. The old Selfridges building was still a shoppers' mecca, a vivid symbol of the 20th-century political upheavals that had driven California's secession and Britain's realignment with the Soviet Union, ending the Cold War. On balance he felt it was worth it, compulsory Russian classes and all.

Highball and Phylloxera were at their usual table, discussing England's defeat by Andorra at the Timothy Leary Stadium - was it Trotskyite sabotage or the adoption of a historically incorrect tactical system? Listening to the women debate, Magneto 88 realised it would take more than one doobie to solve that one. Sometimes it was tough being a cop.
Basil Ransome-Davies

. . . and a few more entries on travel in the UK
George stretched out his legs and gazed proudly through the gleaming window of the commuter train drawing into Westminster.
Robert Lee

Jack walked down the street and joined the orderly queue waiting for the bus. The bus came almost immediately, with plenty of room.
Ian Birchall

The next challenge

No 4167 Set by Ian Birchall

When Top Gear presenters characterised Mexicans as "lazy, feckless and flatulent", Steve Coogan claimed: "With Top Gear, it is three middle-aged men laughing at poor Mexicans," adding: "Brave, ground-breaking stuff, eh?" However, in a letter to Mexico's ambassador in London, the BBC said it was sorry if it had offended some people, but claimed jokes based on national stereotyping were part of British national humour. So, if stereotyping is legitimate, let's have jokes based on stereotyping BBC managers or Top Gear presenters.

Max ten jokes (or one if it's a shaggy-dog story) by 3 March
comp@newstatesman.co.uk