Marnie Sleightholme was well chuffed when she got the chance to be carnival queen, and she couldn’t give a shit if it was true was folks were saying about her only getting picked because she’d had her right arm ripped off.
Staniforth/Fryupdale
There wasn’t a girl in Fryup who didn’t grow up dreaming of being carnival queen. Bethroned on that front float in a snow-white dress with a fringe like frosted icing, basking in the jealous looks of her defeated rivals.
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The carnival queen is to all intents and purposes the face of Fryup, so she has to be chosen carefully. The committee sift entries and cast their votes. Ideally, the winner will attend church or take an active part in another associated youth group. Her conduct will have been exemplary, and she will have references to that effect.
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It was tradition that while the Queen posed on her throne on the front float, the boys fought bare-knuckle round the back of the waltzers for the right to have the first shot at luring her to spend the night.
unpub
THE NORTH RIDING PROJECT 
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