Don't stop doin' it for the kids...

There's this garden centre, it sells your typical garden centre stuff, compost, sheds, seeds, etc. But to appeal to the more respectable classes it also stocks a fantastic array of kitsch goods, clutter, unwanted gifts and even shit like Swan and Hedgehog food, Starbucks coffee, Spa's and organic local* produce. It appeals to the upper classes [can I say that, they don't exist anymore do they?] as they can afford to buy the stuff there and then say that they did. It appeals to the middle classes because they feel like they're the upper classes wondering around all the pointless crap that'd make their lives feel richer, and it appeals to everyone else because it's like an entertainment complex, where they can point and stare at the tropical fishes, the lovely orchids and eat a slice of packet-mix cheesecake.
Anyway, on special days of the week like Mother's Day or Christmas Eve, they organise entertainments; face-painting, talks by RSPB officers, scrapbooking demos, etc. One particular excitement is called... I'll change his name for obvious legal reasons... Mr "Solid Food Prepared From The Pressed Curd Of Milk". He's shipped in especially for the little Bratz; he dances, he sings, he tells stories, he makes impressive balloon animals. He's also had a couple of complaints lodged against him. In December, a mother complained because he'd been telling the kids to steal their parent's credit cards. The latest complaint, and my personal favourite, details how he's been telling children to take Butane gas canisters into fields and set them alight.
In most cases I'd say this was completely irresponsible behaviour, but in the context of where he's saying these things, and to whose kids, I salute him and he'll soon be in receipt of a shiny Bomb Factory badge. Hooray for punk children's entertainment!

*It's origin is questionable. The fresh loaves are brought in par-baked, frozen, then heated on site.