Well after the fact.

To my fellow young passengers on the 20.11 out of Leeds tonight. Jenny, you do sing a little bit like Cher, but your diction is terrible, try splitting the words up again, instead of squishing them all together into one long noise. I hope this doesn't offend you as you are clearly very very very fond of the sound of your own voice. Dave must think a lot of you, as he put up with all your inappropriate loud complaints about his behaviour. The fact that he wanted to be off with the lads made perfect sense to me. His disarming honesty about this was quite charming. But Dave, she's right, stop being such a child and take responsibility for your actions. Do what you want to do, but don't go sneaking away behind her back, it's juvenile, grow up. To Dave's kind friend who who described him as the best of a bad bunch, and later went on to darkly suggest he was going to sort Sarah out, and it wouldn't take very long, watch a bit less television, and sort your loyalties out dickhead. Should these remarks cause offence, and be deemed none of my business, I can only agree. I suggest, if you object to my intervention, that you conduct your business at a lower volume, as opposed to yelling your banalities at the entire carriage all the way home. Oh and Dave, you are quite right, you can't sing.