Visit to the Seaside

She sat in the Arndale centre as she did yesterday with Edith, Merrill and suicide Jane observing the activities of another day. The Community police had nothing on these women. The Chief visual presence inspector with note pad and pen, her associates as her back up and look out, armed with a tongue and moral standing. They wore orange boiler suits and matching berets.
It was Merrill’s turn to march the L of the building and let the public know there was presence amongst mass dismay. She did this effectively but couldn’t cast her eyes on any wrong doing on this occasion. There were no citizen arrests on her round. A report back to the chief was brief and then the head honcho stood to attention and said “in the name of no CCTV”. The council were raising funds and the local police did the odd fundraiser ‘Catch the Criminal’ to contribute.
The Chief with white stick cane made her way up and down the arcade, eyes glancing either way, before a gentleman in a white rabbit suit with a rainbow banner from left shoulder to right thigh, caught her attention with unusual intrigue. She reconvened quickly with her group and put the word around, ‘Was the Town expecting a rabbit’? Was this a message? Did the rabbit have association with anything else? The ladies concluded how bizarre, Edith adding, “ This town has seen some strange things”. Merrill joked, “Yes just look at council activity”. There was a definite focus on the present situation in the Town.
The Visual presence brigade looked on with bright eye surprised by the nature of the white rabbit. Who in the passing of thought had made his exit by the north wing of the complex, suitably named The Cola Cube league entrance. The local council had cashed in on Morecambe football club’s admission to the football league some years ago. The sponsorship was generous and the only type of financial support Morecambe had seen for many years.
After the informality of the rabbit, the Visual presence Inspector took order and precedence, patrolling the building, where the atmosphere had noticeably changed, with passes by and locals discussing the wareabouts of the rabbit. On picking up on this the Inspector relocated back to her team before swiftly making her way out of the building, saying, “There will be no moral panic here”. Now out in the fresh air, she repositioned her beret and set out in pursuit of the rabbit. Some young people joked “There must be trouble the vigilante’s are out”. They hadn’t heard the news! Sky world news projected on the screen. The new reader proclaiming “The seaside resort of Morecambe is to expect visitors today bringing prosperity and merriment to the future. Neon lights highlighted news just in on the big screen. The figure of orange walked up and around the vicinity as she saw it and made her way up to the sea front, with no sign of the rabbit. She then approached the ‘Eric entrance’ of the Arndale and made her way to the central position to let her colleagues in crime fighting aware she had returned.In the mean time Frank Side bottom made his entrance through the memorable Cola Cube doors. Where the good times back in Morecambe? He began to dance his way through the Arndale. This generated interest in the workers inside the shops, and the communal seats filled with Morecambe glitter arty. One old timer laughed, “He’s got to be staying in the seaside suite in the Midland. It hasn’t been since the glory days of the football club since we’ve seen him. Suspicion and excitement escalated. Another old boy stated, “Well Christie Park has seen some changes over the years”. “A childhood dream” he said reminiscing. Frank was visiting the Parada shop. The Visual presence brigade sat in their designated area contemplating the recent excitement. Void of words and slightly stunned, the ladies looked on…Only then the surrealism progressed when Uncle Bulgaria walked into the area with casual determination. Walking in a zig zag fashion to the local people with an open and friendly hand of greeting. The natives of Morecambe reacted well to the Granddad of the underworld and made quite an impact as workers left their tills to hear his voice. He spoke with knowledge and attachment to the world of Morecambe, after all he was one hundred and four; no one questioned Bulgaria. Who then pulled out a Mega phone and said “Remember when the water board were turning off the water”. “They told you in this manner? Well I’m pleased to tell you there is to be great change in this Town! You’ve been re-cycling well!”.
At that moment a band crashing with cymbals and drums entered to the interest of an ever filling Arndale centre. The streets were bare. The chorus of beats echoed around the transformed kingdom. Many characters filled in behind the band: Jelly baby men, orange, green and white, led the chorus behind Tango men, two in all, and Mr Men and all the Magic Roundabout characters followed behind. The leaders of the New World marched.
The Visual Presence Brigade feeling overwhelmed, split and left by the side entrance building they had known so well. They watched the entourage of colour fill their world of security. They made their way back to the library and Mothers Union respectively.
The band and comic characters marched in the Arndale centre and were joined by the local people. They rallied in the Carnival atmosphere. Frank was wearing some rather fetching Gucci sunglasses which hid the excitement in his eyes. The procession was now in the open air making it’s way to the promenade with emphatic joy. The Visual Presence Brigade scurried home with umbrellas just in case of showers!
The procession in full flight made its way down the promenade, which was ever increasing as people stopped their cars and to join the festivities. In the distance the Winter Gardens Theatre had lights brightly shinning into the sky from its balcony. Figures in black suits could be seen outside the theatre. The Morecambe public looked on as the band played Electric Avenue by Eddie Grant. Limos drove slowly south past the illuminations, which had been turned on without planning. Uncle Bulgaria led from the front. He waved his orchestra onwards and into the Winter Gardens, which after much generation was complete. Smart stewards stood like nothing was happening and showed people to their seats. Children sat on the floor with clowns for entertainment juggling and riding unicycles. The celebrities of the day made their way by lift. Champagne waited for them there in ice buckets, with tall charming men dressed in long black suits opening doors and elegant ladies dressed in glamorous costume looked after the guests. Uncle Bulgaria chatted with Frank Side-Bottom over a glass of Moet, looking out to sea. Work had just begun to build three piers; east, west and central to the promenade. All the work could be seen from here. “Remember the creatures from Fraggle Rock?” said Bulgaria, “Well I’ve commissioned them to do the work. Years ago I asked the Head Fraggle if he wanted to join us in the Womble kingdom but he declined. It’s marvellous to see them help