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A Man of a Few More Words - by Swan Morrison

What's the Damage, Squire?

Me, me family an’ me mates like nothin’ better than a really good party.

This used to cause loads o’ grief. Just last year, we took over our local pub, the Risin’ Sun, for a bash. The customers and staff kept complainin’ about the noise, the excessive drinkin’, the rowdiness, the assaults, the rapes, the murders, the arson and so on. It took a lot o’ fun out o’ the do. It was only next mornin’, as I stood with the owner lookin’ at the smolderin’ remains o’ the pub buildin’, that a better plan for future parties was ‘atched between us.

We ain’t short o’ a bob or two, although the pub owner was a bit surprised when I got out me wad and slipped ‘im a million in fifties to pay for the party and rebuild the pub. ‘e was more surprised when I asked for a bookin’ for next year - when ‘e‘d got the place more to rights, like. After a bit o’ thought, he accepted. It would pay more to build a new place just for our party than it would to run it is as a pub and restaurant for a year.

Buildin’ specifically to purpose allowed a number of innovative features. As they only needed usin’ for one night, chairs could be robust enough to sit on, but break easily when smashed over someone’s ‘ed. Windows could be made of theatrical glass so there was no unnecessary arteries severed by those thrown through ‘em. There was time to recruit ex SAS soldiers as waiters and bar staff and issue ‘em with kevlar clothin’ to protect ‘em from most o’ the knives and stray bullets.

After a small cash contribution to the Chief Constable’s retirement fund, the police even agreed to evacuate an’ cordon off the ‘alf-mile surrounding the pub on the night o’ the party.

On the night, I first thought that the kevlar protection for the staff ‘ad been a mistake when me mates kept callin’ ‘em all ‘Kev’. Pissin’-off ex SAS men, ‘owever, just led to ‘em wadin’ into the fights too, so that was loads better than last year when the staff were really borin’ and just cowered in a corner and prayed.

One great plan was the buildin’ of a swimmin' pool and fillin’ it with punch. Even them what drowned ‘ad a fantastic night.

I admit it might ‘av been a mistake to store all the fireworks for our ‘uge, planned display in the smokin’ area o’ the pub. Still, people got to see the display, close up, without ‘avin’ to go out in the cold. Also it gave the local emergency services a chance to test their Major Civil Emergency Plan.

All in all, this year, it was f**kin’ brilliant. The do was just last night and the landlord’s already got some JCBs in to fill the crater so work can begin on rebuildin’ the pub for next year.