Chapter 12 In which Pangloss hatches a plan for socio-economic cleansing

Initially having consultants to assist with the running of Westphalia-on-Sea had been a great help to Pangloss, but as he gradually adapted to the system he began to feel rather emasculated. To put it bluntly, he was annoyed with himself for having grown overly dependent on Complete Commercial Upgrading & New Town Solutions. Over breakfast one morning he reminded himself that he was (a) the Mayor,and (b) an ideas man, and that although 26 big ideas a year might be over-ambitious, he could certainly have one or two from time to time. In search of inspiration he thought back to the time before he had hired the consultants - how was his mind working then? Of course, back then everything he did was intended to attract high-spending high-class visitors; perhaps it was time to cast his net again and try and catch some of those elusive elites? While still not absolutely sure what attracted high-spending high-class visitors, he did know a few things that didn't attract them. One was low-spending low-class visitors - the two simply didn't mix. Another was coachloads of old-age pensioners. What benefit were they exactly to Westphalia-on-Sea? All they did was clog up the roads. They had no money. You were lucky if they bought a couple of postcards and a bloody teatowel, and they were all in bed by nine o'clock.
'Chairman Miaow, I think it's time we made a list, Pangloss announced to his feline companion, of all the undesirable social groups that we need to eliminate from Westphalia-on-Sea if I am to achieve my goal of a new order of elite rebranded free-market trickle-down wealth-delivering tourist economy fit for the twenty-first century.'
From his extensive knowledge of current affairs Pangloss knew that the phrase 'ethnic cleansing' usually attracted a fair bit of bad press for the perpetrators, and he was pretty sure even a firm of top-drawer consultants would have trouble putting a positive spin on that kind of provocative language. No, what he had in mind was a much more media-friendly policy which he would call 'socio-economic cleansing'.

He took out a notepad. Right, who'll be first? he thought. That's easy, those low-lifes ... now what did everyone call them? Oh yes, Chavs. He wrote it at the top of a new page. Hmm, better jot down a few reasons as well, I suppose, just in case I have to justify my new strategy. He put the pencil back on the page, but his mind had temporarily gone blank. He chewed the end of the pencil and looked at Chairman Miaow for inspiration. The cat looked back at him, then closed its eyes. Oh, I'll come back to that, thought Pangloss. He knew there was a very good reason why he didn't want Chavs running around Westphalia-on-Sea, but he couldn't quite put it into words at this very moment. Next category; stag and hen parties. Yes, no question about that. All those hideous women pushing some woefully under-dressed girl around in a shopping trolley with 'L' plates on it. Hang on, wouldn't they come under 'Chavs' anyway? What about stag parties? They often had a bit of a rugby/city boy feel, so they weren't Chavs. A lot were probably middle class. Some might even be upper-class. Blimey, thought Pangloss, this is more difficult than I'd first thought. Young farmers? - middle class? Hmm, depended how much land their parents (the old farmers) had, he supposed.

Pangloss began to wonder if a Venn diagram would be a better way of getting his thoughts down on paper, instead of writing in it all down in a list. He began to sketch it out - first two intersecting circles representing Chavs and pre-wedding parties. He wrote hen parties where they overlapped. Now we're getting somewhere, he thought. He added a third circle. Young farmers who came from very small farms joined the hen parties in the 'very undesirable' section, farmers from bigger farms stayed outside the overlapping area, like the stag parties full of rugger boys, who still seemed to be welcome. Wait a minute, thought Pangloss. There are some Chavs there who are still in the 'OK' section; that can't be right. And where are the old people going to go? How many circles should a Venn diagram have anyway? He drew a new diagram with another two intersecting circles. In one circle he wrote 'old people', and in the other he wrote 'coaches', so the bit in the middle was old people on coaches - they were a definite no-no. Pangloss could feel a migrain coming on. He looked at all the scribbling before him, then sighed, ripped the page from the notebook and screwed it up. Christ, this isn't as easy as looks, he thought.
Then he wondered if a two-tier system would work. Chavs, old people on coaches, young farmers from small farms and hen parties in the winter, and rich people, middle-class stag parties and wealthier young farmers in the summer. No, this was getting far too complicated, an organisational nightmare. It was time to be bold. Time to go out on a limb. No time to pussyfoot around. He glanced at the cat and smiled to himself. He had a mandate from 7% of the electorate, so he wasn't going shy away from making big decisions - he owed it to the people of Westphalia-on-Sea. He phoned the Town Hall and was put through to the Highways Department.
'Yes, this is Dr Pangloss,' he said, putting on his most impresive tone of voice. 'I want new signs made up for every entry road into the town, and this is what they should say: No Chavs, no old people on coaches, no stag or hen parties and no young farmers. Westphalia-on-Sea extends a warm welcome to the very wealthy. I'd like them in place by the end of next week. What's that? No, of course I don't want any bloody palm trees on the sign. Thank you and goodbye.' Then, flushed with the adrenaline of decision-making, Pangloss redialed, and told the editor of the Westphalia Express what he had done.
'Hmm, where do think they'll all go if they don't come here?' asked the editor.
'I really don't care, said Pangloss. Why don't we send them all the train times to some dreadful holiday camp up North?'
'Is that your final solution?' asked the editor.
'It most certainly is,' replied Pangloss. 'I want to see a completely new breed of people here - tanned, beautiful, cultured, and with a few quid in their pocket.'