No parking

CHAPTER 2
THE LYTHAM GIANT
“Thanks” the women spat with an insulted tone. She gathered up the pile of coppers and silver deftly produced by a clattering machine operated by Walter. Walter’s manner did not match the cheery briskness of the machine his face a blank mask of indifference. He looked bored because he was bored and he was damned if he was going to be cheery just because someone was on holiday. He gave the woman a short nod and an ironic grunt of assent
Walter was a fairy story giant of a man. Flesh swamped his features, his mouth a tiny red wound, eyes sunk like coals in snow almost pleading for escape, hair an afterthought of greased smear. The whole was balanced, neckless, on a massive body undulating like a pyramid of sand at every slight movement. He looked like a shaved bear and miraculously seemed to fit exactly within a small cubicle surrounded by light bulbs and a large sign reading CHANGE.
He gazed at her retreating back disappearing into the flashing clattering melee and heaved a massive sigh. This caused a dangerous bulge in the back of the cubicle and produced a mist on the glass on which, after a small moment of deliberation he drew a cock and balls.  
Through the mist he saw a figure approaching at speed-the manager. A short petty minded man with bad taste clothes and bad breath manner.
“Can’t you try and be pleasent” spat the boss
“ I mean there are dozens of people who would love this job you know”
“Yeah probably true” thought Walter, Blackpool was full of the desperate and though you would have to be to work for these wages and conditions, many would.
“This is your last chance, smile, be friendly, make the customers feel welcome or you’re out”
Walters reply was interrupted by a commotion by the grab machine as a bunch of mohicaned punks started to rock the machine shouting and play fighting amongst themselves. People shrank away and a number started to head for the exits. The manager ran over waving his arms as if the punks were annoying pigeons likely to scatter at his gesticulations. Not surprisingly it had little effect other than increasing the exit numbers as family’s sensed carnage ahead.
Finally the chief agitator turned away from his attack on the machine and faced up to the manager , though not exactly as the managers face only reached the man’s midriff.
“This machine is rigged”
“ How dare you , you .....ignoramus” the manager blustered looking guiltily around as a small crowd of interested onlookers gathered at the door.
“Actually I have a degree in mechanical engineering” the punk retorted
“ But I don’t need that to see that the grab mechanism has been loosened so that it couldn’t hold a cotton bud never mind a watch or anything else for that matter”
 “Rubbish, everyone’s’ a winner here at the Coral Island he gibbered imploring the retreating clientele to turn back and waste more money. Aren’t you going to do something” he hissed staring desperately at Walter who suddenly realised he was though not quite what the manager had in mind.