Welcome to 22, Windsor Gardens. Home of Paddington, and his infamous cocktail bar with Lyle acting as the Chief Barsteward. (And some would say Brian Cant, although I think that may just be the Cockernee Element of the crowd)
“Oi, Cant, Serve us our drinks!”
And so it begins…
Graybo‘s in the corner, retching over a Roobarb and Custard. The crowd of birds are all laughing in his direction, and there’s a heavily fuzzed guitar accompaniment to the noises of puking. It’s all Rainbow-coloured, although there’s no sign of George or Zippy.
Bungling about alongside Graybo are Gammidgy and Clair, who appear to be messing about with a Boney skull, and a load of drutts. Gammidgy’s drinking a Trap Door (how apt) while Clair’s playing the spoons (I think they’re supposed to be metal spoons for playing, not wooden kitchen ones) and drinking a Full Moon.
Lisa‘s decided she’s off to do something less boring than drinking, but she made sure to quaff the Yuzu-Chahai first. That something less boring may involve barfing in a doorway if I’m not much mistaken. It’s almost as oriental as Issi Noho, but far more bitter than a magical panda.
Pockless is playing with his Fingerbobs – now there was a strange programme! – and Fingermouse appears to be getting sloshed on that pint of Puppet Show Pale.
Pete‘s drinking a Talisker – but I’ll keep an eye on his intake, because otherwise he turns into a Batfink, and practices his Karate.
And finally, of the Bods who added an order, Karen‘s dropped a bit of a Clanger by ordering a Soupdragon. If it’s strong enough, she’ll soon be Noggin’ the Nog, particularly if she mixes it up with Ivor the Engine’s IceDragon.
There’s some missing people today, so the considerate among us have sneakily requested drinks for them. Lori’s been getting Wheelie bad at this, so she’s getting a special gin cocktail from Proof in Chorlton. Gordon keeps playing with Jamie’s Magic Torch (Fnarr!) so he’s turned all Wordsworth, and getting a Blue Cloud cocktail. I don’t know what kind of kid’s TV Asta would’ve watched, so she can take the place of Mr Benn and travel wherever she needs to.
If I’ve forgotten anyone else – or they need to add an order – just leave a comment. I’ll be behind the bar, drinking a Bagpuss with Professor Yaffle and Gabriel the Toad.
Ah, just like the old days – stood in a bar with a strange cocktail and all the birds laughing at me. No change. No change at all.
Is “walking the invisible dog” some sort of euphemism, Lisa?