Mystery Guest

Although she couldn't quite put her finger on it, Gobby felt you could always tell when Spudgirl had popped round for a cuppa.

The end of an Era?

It would seem that the unthinkable, abandoning the Local for one that could actually be relied on to serve that seemingly scarce commodity known as 'DRINK', was actually about to occur.

After multitudinous rants and laments over the demise of the Local, Spudgirl analysed the current position, both literally and figuratively, issuing the decree:

"It is with great interest that we have noted your comments about the Volts. As you know, I have, for some time, been a little less than satisfied with the Vodka availability. My husband is not usually so discerning* but has also been disappointed with the range and standard of the beer. Although we have no major issue with the landlord at the present time, we agree that the situation has not been the best.

If it is acceptable to the majority, my husband and I would like to join you good folk at a 'New Venue' on our return from across the sea.

Kind regards (in the hope that the above has improved Tattoo's mood slightly after his rant)."

Spudgirl & Tubthumper


Having reached this level of arbitration, whilst some of their number braved the high seas, (not to mention Tweety & Thrush), the remaining Regulars took their first steps into the unknown reporting back forthwith that they had their accomplished this initial foray seemingly unscathed:

"Was welcomed quite warmly by the landlady, who only asked us to watch our language, to which Hamish replied, "what if you have Tourettes?" Nearly spat my beer all over her.

That would have been a good start."

It was, therefore, with much trepidation and anticipation that the remaining Regulars readied themselves pastures new (and, to Billy Idle's immeasurable consternation, an extra 5 minute's walk.)



Meanwhile, down the Local, (sniff) the current incumbents had posted signs requesting guest beer choices for the coming months, to which the Regulars had helpfully added,

'Any beer would be a start.'

and

'Anything other than crap lager'.

*For 'not so discerning read: has been witnessed drinking the dregs of abandoned vessels found in dirty corners of many a pub. A practice he fondly refers to as 'minesweeping'.

Ups & Downs

After a overly well fed and well watered weekend away Gobby commented on the fact that Billy Idle may have gained a pound or two.

Billy attempted to appease her with regard to this by stating,

"But I told you it went in peaks and troughs."

Leaving Gobby to wonder if they would stay together long enough to ever see a trough.

Safety in Numbers

"Unlikely that the evil Rupert Kidnapper can sneak them all out unnoticed this time," mused Gobby.

Give up Eventually and Get Someone Else to Do It

As the kitchen fitters (or saviours sent from the Lord as Gobby liked to think of them) arrived, and as she mused over no longer having to keep cutlery on the worktop in a desk tidy pen holder due to circumstances that had been beyond her control for well over a year; Gobby hardly dared to believe she would no longer, on entering the kitchen, be confronted by the sorry sights of Billy Idle's woeful lack of DIY:

However, and quite incredibly, on returning home for the weekend, generally spent in his unerring devotion to DNY, Do Nothing Yourself, Billy Idle, as if thwarted by some higher power and in a somewhat wounded manner declared,

"I was going to mend that drawer this weekend as well!"

Halloween

After a terrifying haranguing by the Trick or Treaters of Caistor Road (on the one evening of the year they feel comfortable showing themselves) then running the gauntlet to the Local not daring to look back, it was a wild eyed Billy Idle & Gobby that threw themselves at the bar on Halloween.

Both out of breath (Gobby from fear and Billy from a rare bout of physical exertion) Billy finally managed to gasp to the bar staff,

"She wants Hobgoblin."

To which Ol' Blue Eyes, with a twinkle added,

"I bet she does!"

Following this up with the comment that he hadn't had a single trick or treater darken his door this year to which the Regulars were about to ask his secret when he continued;

"Maybe it's since I murdered that kid last year!"