As any bucket 'n' spade-wielding aficionado of the British seaside knows, a traditional Punch and Judy show should feature plenty of shouting, screaming and unseemly squabbling.
There are usually cameos from a crocodile, a hapless policeman and — for some long-forgotten reason — a string of juicy sausages.
Amid this scene of mayhem, cartoonish violence inevitably ensues.
But this summer, down on Swanage's waterfront, the argy-bargy has spilled out from the puppet booth on to the golden sands.
And it's not Mr Punch's performance upsetting punters at this Dorset resort. Nor indeed the show's often risqué content, in which double-entendres and slapstick violence are de rigueur.
As any aficionado of the UK seaside knows, a Punch and Judy show should feature shouting and squabbling. Pictured: Henry Deedes at a Punch and Judy show in Swanage, Hampshire
Not at all. It seems that while holidaymakers are happy to stop to enjoy this traditional entertainment, some of them are far less keen on paying for it.
Joe Burns, 29, has been performing his one-man Punch show here for six years. It's been a rough 18 months, as you can imagine.
Last year was all but a write-off. Plus, he's received none of the Government's £1.5 billion rescue fund for the arts.
And — as the Mail reported yesterday — to make matters worse, this year some tight-fisted beach-goers are refusing to fork out the meagre £2 fee to view his shows.
'It's been tricky,' says Joe, sipping a coffee on the seafront as he prepares for his lunch- time performance.
'We've had the odd problem in years gone by but the abuse we've been getting this year has been far worse than anything we've had before. It seems some people want something for nothing.
On Swanage's waterfront (pictured), the argy-bargy has spilled out from the puppet booth as some holidaymakers have not been keen on paying for the show
'The other day, one of my collectors went round after a show asking for donations and this family told us we had ruined their day by doing so. They reported us to the beach manager. Others have told us to 'f*** off'. That's happened quite a lot.'
And there's been worse still: 'Last week, a group of about eight set up in front of the show all day, and when we asked them to chip in they couldn't believe we'd asked.
'There were three of us working and they followed us down the beach screaming at us. It was awful. We do this job out of love. We don't do it to be abused!'
Joe was keen to stress that most people who come to watch are delightful.
He reckons the troublemakers are 'staycationers' who may not be too happy at having to swap Majorca for the English south coast this year, thanks to the chaos of the Government's travel policy during the pandemic.
'It's definitely a different crowd this year. Perhaps they're irritated about being here. But the regulars are fantastic.'
And it's not as the show is free entertainment laid on by the council. On the contrary, Joe has to pay for a licence, while managing other considerable overheads such as insurance — plus he has a staff of four to pay, who help to collect his takings.
And since Joe's not local (off season he works in a theatre in Brighton) he also has to pay for his own accommodation.
For all that Mr Punch has been a joy on British seasides for centuries, Joe is a practitioner (or 'Professor', as Punch operators are traditionally known) of a dying art.
Joe Burns (pictured), 29, has been performing his one-man Punch show here for six years. He's received none of the Government's £1.5 billion rescue fund for the arts amid the pandemic
Once a staple akin to donkeys and candy floss, now just two Punch stands other than Joe's remain: one along the coast in Weymouth and another at Llandudno in North Wales.
But Joe is
