everyone to bring their performances to a close. Thank the lord.
When the whole crew of Worriors have finally become as motionless as I’ve been for the past five minutes, Bandy gives it a couple of beats before coming out of her appalling monkey impression. The rest of them follow suit.
‘We die here, so that you may see!’ Bandy shouts at the vastly diminished crowd. ‘To see how our animal friends are dying! We die for them!’
Bloody hell, love. Monkeying about on a bit of concrete for ten minutes is not dying. I’m sure if the average endangered species could see what’s gone on here, and make a comment about it, they’d probably tell good old Bandy to do something a bit more practical about the situation – give a few quid to Greenpeace, for instance. Or lobby a few politicians.
Performing overwrought amateur dramatics in front of a load of bored shoppers probably isn’t going to do much, other than reinforce the idea that environmental protestors are a right bunch of Padlos.
‘We leave here now, hoping that you have seen us!’ Bandy continues to enunciate, in a tone that suggests she’s about to bust a gasket. ‘Hoping that you see them! Hoping that you feel their pain! That you stop your endless consumerism here in this place, because it’s killing them!’
I’m not convinced Bandy and chums have managed to persuade anyone that there’s much of a link between popping into JD Sports for a new pair of flip-flops and the murder of our planet’s fauna. By the looks on the faces of the small crowd left watching us, I’d say they’re not convinced either.
Only Nolan appears to be agreeing, and nodding along to what Bandy is saying. It really does seem like he’s taking all this environmental stuff to heart. Viridian PR is going to be a very different place from Stratagem – there’s no doubt of that.
‘Thank you all for watching!’ Looks like Bandy is wrapping things up now. Probably for the best. I can see three Whitehaven security guards standing over by Topshop, giving us very dark looks. ‘We will continue to fight for our planet!’ she says, with obvious passion. ‘We will continue to call out the injustices! We will continue to speak truth to power!’ Bandy takes a deep breath, and thrusts a fist into the air. ‘We will continue!’ she cries, once more to the heavens.
‘We will continue!’ all of the other Worriors say in unison, also punching their fists upwards.
Oh shit, this is a thing, is it?
‘We . . . we will continue!’ I say, a bit half-heartedly, while gently shaking a loosely clenched fist at about head height.
As far as clarion calls go, I’m not sure ‘we will continue’ is quite up there with ‘cry havoc, and let slip the dogs of war’. These people are clearly in dire need of some decent public relations.
With the mission statement proudly echoing around the glass-fronted shops, the Worriors For The Plonet protest comes to an end.
I’d better get my butt over to where Nolan is, and see what he thinks of my contribution. I have a lot riding on this.
I skip over to where he’s now talking quite animatedly with one of the Worriors. I have to dodge Bandy and the middle-class chap as I do this, as they take down the banner with practised ease.
‘Hi!’ I say cheerily to Nolan, interrupting whatever conversation he was having with the Worrior – who is a very middle-class lady of about fifty, wearing a white denim jacket and a maroon pashmina that was probably made in a factory that eats sea lion cubs for breakfast. I seem to remember she was one of the barking dogs from the protest. Possibly a chihuahua.
‘Hello, Ellie!’ Nolan replies brightly, before looking back at his companion. ‘Jill, do you know Ellie?’ he asks her.
The lady standing with Nolan gives me a blank look. ‘No . . . I don’t think we’ve ever met.’
‘Oh,’ Nolan replies, a bit confused. ‘Well, this is Ellie Cooke, one of the employees at the PR firm I just bought.’
‘Er . . . hello,’ Jill says. This must be the same Jill whose comment on Facebook led me here today. ‘You were part of the protest?’
‘Yes, I was!’ I reply. ‘I was doing a panda.’
Jill’s eyes narrow a bit. ‘I’ve never seen you at any of the meetings, or seen you in the Facebook group?’
I’m prepared for this.
‘I’m part of Padlo’s bunch!’ I tell her confidently. This excuse