Quiz night

S's point of view...

Our enemy is P.
Slim Shady fades into insignificance in comparison.
He won tonight.
His team name was something about squirrels.
When we turned up in the loser's 'spoons he was there.
M was chatting him up.
We only escaped because a very scary lady butted in.
We're home now. All's calm.

Now, my account:

No pool match today, so after a quick practice at the Dolphin, S joins us for the quiz.  

The Squirrels are there, so are the Dexters with their humping dog, Slim Shady and the Locum Pussies and the Old Farts.

The atmosphere is very festive, as if the weather has transformed the usually pale serious people into pink- faced happy ones.  D, the quizmaster, is looking particularly purple.

We plough through the questions, managing to disregard too many of the right answers (Manuel, apparently is Italian in the Spanish version of Fawlty Towers,  Morpheus is not the god of Sleep, but of Dreaming and a Falchion is a sword and not a dagger).  We end up third : a point behind the  Pussies and too many behind P and the squirrels...

S is particularly sore about loosing to P, as they used to be work colleagues and he is not impressed when I go to talk to him when we find him at the spoons.  

P is concerned about the scary lady as he'd bumped into her three times tonight, one of which she was being attended by an ambulance.  She spots us spotting her and takes it as an invitation to join us.  

Much confusion follows, till we take advantage of one of her loo breaks to abandon our drinks and make it safely home....

Today, another quiz, another planet...