Once the Silver Ball was launched and the sprogs had legged it, the Mayor and the rest of her platoon rapidly decamped to the Community Rooms for a cup of char, a fag and quite possibly a crafty slug of something stronger from the hip flask. With the sudden influx of cold, soaking wet bundles of misery into the heat of the Community Rooms the place rapidly began to resemble a sauna. Using the mist as cover the Mayor made a dart for the Town Hall offices to see if she could get her fancy dress gear dry before the next event.
Then, at 11 o'clock, it was time to set into motion part two of the plan. Having given the sprogs a thirty minutes head start, it was now time to send the Childcatcher General after them! In Royal Square, outside the Western, the Mayor summoned the Western Hunt to perform its historic duty.
Actually, they don't chase the local sprogs so much these days. The municipal authorities have also empowered them to hunt down any leftover New Year Revellers, non-paying visitors, New Age dole scroungers, illegal immigrants from Hayle, etc. in order to 'spring clean' the town in preparation for the forthcoming tourist season. (You see the trouble we go to every year to make St. Ives such a lovely place to visit?).
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