By Myer Pinion


READER: Are you enjoying the fireworks?
MYSELF: Pardon?
READER: I said...(Bang!) ARE - YOU - ENJOYING - THE (Whoosh..zzz...BANG!) fireworks?
MYSELF: sorry I didn't (Woof woof woof. wooof. WOOF WOOF, woof!) quite get that. Did you say "am I joining the (Boom! Phweee!) fire service"?
READER: What did you say? (BOOM!)
MYSELF: Ah, that's better, I think they've finished...(Screeeeeeam! Whoosh!.... FUCKING ENORMOUS EXPLOSION, woofwoof woofwoof woof!)
READER: Nope, sorry, didn't get any of that.


Yes, that's how it goes during Hastings' Pyromania-obessed  "Bonfire Season", which lasts approximately from October 1st to New Year's Eve. Every night between those two dates, (that's every night folks), Hastings celebrates Guy Fawkes' unsuccessful 1605 parliamentary coup with a sound and fury signifying nothing (nothing, that is, unless you are a dog or a cat or a wild animal, when you will be under the impression that the world is about to end).
Meanwhile a very successful parliamentary coup happened in 2019, under their very noses, without a rocket being fired or a single banger big enough to deafen a small village being set off. Dominic Cummings, the quiet Guy Fawkes, will be gone by Christmas, he promises, but sadly for the animal kingdom and anyone annoyed by antisocial overgrown schoolboys, fireworks will remain.