If you need help to try and imagine what this was like, imagine Sid James and Brian Blessed trying to out laugh each other. ‘Don’t be ridiculous, I can’t pay a share of that sort of money lads’, I whinged. ‘Don’t be a tart, what’s wrong with you’, asked Ferg. ‘I’m not a tart, I just don’t have any money. I made that perfectly clear when you forced me to come on this fiasco and if you buy one single bottle of that stuff, I’m walking out.’ “Really?” asked Mark “Really!”, I replied in defiance. ‘In that case, my good man’, said Mark as he looked up at the helpless, confused waiter, ‘can we have TWO bottles of the Margaux please?’ Raucous laughter. I got up, while sort of explaining in a mutter that I had to do what I said I would do, and I stormed off through the door. The
door
that
is,
of
the
fekkin’
broom
cupboard!
Miraculously, no one had noticed the error it seemed, and I could hear them laughing helplessly and calling me all sorts. I looked around immediately for some way to get comfy as I suspected that I might have a long wait. However, within less than a minute a helpful waitress sidled up and explained apologetically to the table: ‘Monsieur, your friend, he is still in zee cupboard!’
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