Anna Spud

Anna might have been a Beano girl, if she wasn't so narky.

She has one of those faces that was squashed flat by a trolley bus at an early age and has never properly recovered. Her upturned horseshoe mouth and blazing pebble eyes tell their own story: "Rubbish rubbish rubbish!!! It's all rubbish."

She's a Yorkshire lass. She hates the world, her cocooned baby twin things, gushy mum and bollocks waffling dad.

"I want to live outside the caravan, like grandma," she shouts.

She never talks, does Anna. It's always loud, angry and confrontational.

Grandma is Anna, aged 70, a true battleaxe, who will never - not bloody likely! - go gentle into that good night.

This is the story of a journey from Grimsby to a place where the ferry goes to Ireland.

"You'll like the Irish, Anna," dad says, reassuringly, in his buttered muffin voice.

Anna complains all the way. Who wants holidays when getting there is beyond ruin? Grandma, in the back, in the caravan, is screaming silently through double glaze.

The animation is inspired, the script hilarious. This may be the beginning of something wonderful.

Wallace and Gromit had better watch out. Anna's coming and she's NOT in a good mood.