Tales From The Prom

I’m gonna set the record straight. Yeah, I know what you all think. I’m scum, vermin, nothing more than a smear of crap on your seaside resort. So what? You can’t touch me; I know that, you know that, the whole damn world knows that. So what you gonna do? Try me?
See I run a crew out of Cleveleys. Victoria Road West is my turf, no one else is muscling in, at least not while I’m here. That’s where the best pickings are. The pavements get crowded, especially if there’s a bit of sun. There’s always someone thick enough to leave their table unguarded. So me and the boys get involved, create scenes. What’s a little bit of theft and disturbing the peace between friends? That’s our patch, you enter it at your own risk.
So, the shops might not like me much. Vincent’s, The Cottage, they’ve all got my mug shot up. They know me, I know them, It’s nothing personal, it’s just business. They just don’t want me hanging around, it’s not like they can stop me though. I’m used to people not wanting me around. Even my Mam pushed me out as soon as I was able to fend for myself. It’s not as though I’m not used to a bit of aggro. I can make my own way in life.
I remember the last punk who squared up to me. Thinking he was the big man. So I hopped up on the roof of his car, looked him square in the eye. Wasn’t so big then. See, I go for the eyes; people don’t like that, something sharp coming to take their sight away. They think twice about messing with me then. Soon shows them who’s boss. They’ve all heard the stories about what I’m capable of, read about the people who I’ve sent to the Vic.
Assault and battery is part of life; theft is much more fun. Get what I mean bruv?
A few months ago me and the boys hit the big time. Did a smash and grab on WHSmiths. There wasn’t much of a plan, just walked right in, bold as brass. I find cockiness gets you just as far as hardness. If you look like you know what you’re about, people ain’t going to question it. Anyway, took ‘em by surprise. They couldn’t believe their eyes when they saw me cutting about. All I had to do was grab the stuff and walk right back out. No one even tried to stop me. It was like stealing chips from a toddler.
People don’t like a scene. Yeah, you might have the odd do-gooder thinking they can intervene… but in the end they know it’s better for me to be out on the street; than on the inside.
Sharing out the spoils is more difficult. First you have to get the damn thing open, then the rest of the crew starts grabbing, trying to get something for themselves. It’s like that, when you have to fend for yourself. See… we’re not like those other birds. We’re not graceful like swans, or pretty like those red breasted bastards, who have monopolised Christmas. We rarely get charity like the ducks or the pigeons. We’re Gulls and we’re here to stay.