Welcome all. We’ve hired a cricket pavilion for Lisa’s birthday, there’s a band playing Brown Eyed Girl, and what more do you need.

First to the bar is Lyle, who has chosen a drink to channel the typical fearlessness of a teenager – a Kamikaze. Like a typical teenager, upon being asked to give advice to Lisa, he ignored the brief and just remarked upon her age instead, so top marks for nailing the character stereotype there.

Meanwhile Pockless is gulping down a pint and living the dream. The band, at this point, segue into My Generation and he leaps up. “I love this one!” He will be forever young. Graybo is right alongside there, echoing the sentiment, and drinking a Jagerbomb because his parents are picking him up in two and a half hours which doesn’t offer much time to get smashed.

Drinking champagne are the birthday girl herself, and also Asta and Clair. The disco lights here are very bright, so Asta’s advice to wear sunscreen might be quite useful after all. The three of them disappear off into the corridors (you haven’t forgotten that it’s a cricket pavilion, have you?) to try and source a bottle, and we won’t see them again until 1am.

Ms Gammidgy just drinks this and sulks because her parents don’t understand her, and why oh why is everyone else at school cooler than her? Things will be so much better when she’s grown up. Then she’ll be able to jump on the furniture and eat ice cream every day and no-one will ever, ever, ever tell her what to do.

Sevitz was apparently one of those kids who, at 16, desperately wanted to be 62, so he’s drinking an Old-fashioned and probably talking to someone’s mum about house prices. “Hold the old”, he says with a wink, and later on there’s a very good chance that he will be doing exactly that. Attaboy.

Krissa shows up fashionably late, as ever, but then she does have to travel the furthest, so that’s okay. Her first visit to the bar was somewhat stressful – after finding out exactly how much the “finest wine” would cost, and comparing that to the £15 that her parents gave her for drinks, she’s been forced to downgrade slightly and is now enjoying a glass of just “wine” and looking forward to the day when she’s a rich grown-up and can pour Châteauneuf-du-Pape on her cornflakes every morning.

The bar is understaffed and struggling. What they definitely don’t need right now is someone ordering a hot drink. But there’s always one, isn’t there? Becki orders a hot ginger and lemon tea at precisely the same moment as Karen orders a Mojito, and the whole thing just basically grinds to a halt for ten minutes.

Shortly the police are going to show up and the cricket pavilion is going to lose its license for selling all this booze to 16 year olds. So, drink up.

Today is Lisa‘s 40th birthday (I’m allowed to divulge that information because she has already done so).

So today’s cocktails will be in honour of that. However, there’s a twist. Along with your toast, you must give her a handy piece of advice upon turning 40. However, there’s ANOTHER TWIST. Fucking twists everywhere today. The twist on the twist is that the advice must be from the perspective of a 16 year old, for whom turning 40 is something that happens to other people.

If you’re actually 16 or under, then you’re going to find this incredibly easy, and possibly a bit patronising. Sorry about that.