[Scene: Brighton Palace Pier. Two seagulls, Eric (taller, dafter) and Ernie (shorter, primmer), are sitting comfortably on large deckchairs near the funfair. With apologies again to Morecambe and Wise. See also Bring me . . . a sausage roll!]
Eric: You ever notice how humans scream before the rollercoaster even drops?
Ernie: [Laughs] Pre-emptive panic. Like you when someone sneezes near a pasty.
Eric: Hey - better startled than snatched. I’ve seen what toddlers do to feathers.
Ernie: [Laughing again] True. One of them tried to share their sausage roll with me once. By throwing it at me.
Eric: Ah, the Brighton welcome.
Ernie: Still, better than the ghost train. That thing rattles like a pigeon in a crisp tin.
Eric: And yet, it’s us who got painted, Ernie. Deckchairs, dignity… and just a hint of smug.
Ernie: Cosmo Sarson, wasn’t it?
Eric: Yep. Bold colours, big brushstrokes - a proper seaside tribute. They call it Laughing Seagulls.
Ernie: Well, we are hilarious. Especially you during bin collection.
Eric: It’s performance art. I’ve told you.
Ernie: Cosmo got the vibe, though. Two old birds watching the world flap by. Captured our best side - both of them.
Eric: He said it was about friendship, joy, resilience.
Ernie: And snacks, surely?
Eric: Snacks are implied.
Ernie: You know, I’ve never actually sat in a deckchair before.
Eric: You are now. In glorious, fifteen-foot seaside Technicolor.
Ernie: Not bad for a couple of ferals, eh?
Eric: Not bad at all. Now - watch that one on the helter-skelter. He’s gonna lose his hat and his lunch.
[Both laugh]
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