couldn't agree more David. I'm just kicking my heels until I get killed by some lunatic stampede of Pat Brown's charging down my high street. I'll see the jug of ale slowly slipping from my grasp as a Pat Brown impales me with his stupidity. it'll all happen in slow motion, and then out of the mist comes Reg with a piece of grass between his teeth laughing and one finely aimed throw of his ring hits the head Pat Brown on the forehead like a cyclops who for a moment stand confused and then slumps to the ground. dead. Then all the other Pat Browns bolt for the hills. Reg picks me up and dusts me down and drags me into the old spot. we clink glasses and await the next armageddon approx 600 years away. that is a lot of amber ale to drink.