2

"What the fahk's that all about?" exclaims the man as he wanders past me. He's a large man with a shaved head, sporting a giant gold crucifix around his neck. It's hard to tell whether he's a devout Christian, or whether his neck-wear is a handy tool for bludgeoning people with. I'm left pondering his original statement for sometime after the event.
The police are out again, though not helmeted bobby-types. It's full on gear, complete with stab-proof vests for some reason; shopping has an edge here. It's a town which hit the doldrums years ago, but never quite lifted it's spirits enough to make it back out of the gutter...though it's positively excitement filled when compared with its cheese-wagon hosting cousin.

Farther up the high street, various snippets are overheard from a man outside the fried chicken emporium: "Of course, all the shit they think they've got on me, they'd throw away the key...but they can't prove nuffink...and as for her, if she keeps hanging around with that pair, she'll be getting sex from all sides."

"I'm due this week", says another woman, "and Zoe's due a couple of days after that and her mate just after that." Kind of makes you wonder if the conceptions are planned that way, to form an army. They're obviously at home here though, the giant gold earrings, dazzling. At least here, that kind of overstated and less than subtle accessory can be paid off weekly...