Happyland is a peaceful place, inhabited by gentle plastic figures of all races, creeds, ages, and bodily ability. They live in harmony with one another, leading simple lives in their little plastic idyll.
The farmer tends to his animals, the toy shop till rings up another sale, a young mum pushes her baby in a pushchair, the village children play outside the cottage, none with a care in the world.
Then the fair came to town.
It seemed like such a happy diversion for the village people, a day of fun and frolics, rides to enjoy, ice cream to eat, jolly music to listen to. But now the rides lie silent and unmoving, the ice cream melts under the unforgiving sun, the music now a cacophony of screams from the injured, pleading for help in the hastily assembled field hospital.
What could cause such carnage I hear you ask? Who is responsible for the levels of destruction and the melting ice cream? Where does the blame lie?
Improper adherence to health and safety procedures.
The rides may have looked like fun with their gay trappings, brights primary colours and jaunty tunes, but there were a string of failures to ensure the safety of those who were drawn into the spiderweb of funfair deceit…
None of the rides had seatbelts or high backing to ensure the customers would remain seated throughout the duration of the ride. The pirate ship swing tipped above a safe angle, which coupled with the lack of seatbelts or safety bars meant that passengers fell out on the upswing.
The carousel reached dangerous top speeds sending riders careening off their horses and into the ground.
The rocket ride spun awkwardly and toppled over, spilling bodies across the fairground, crashing into another ride before finally ceasing its deathly twisting.
The ferris wheel engine forced the ride to spin faster and faster until the ramshackle passenger cars carelessly tossed their occupants through the air, sending them crashing sickeningly into the hard ground beneath.
Daddy isn’t allowed to play Happyland anymore.