I’m back having spent some lovely family time in Dubai and Abu Dhabi. First job; to see what been going on at The Baaamy Inn! As I went missing last week I considered writing Twelve this time round – then thought better of it!
Thanks to Denise at GirlieOnTheEdge for hosting Six Sentence Stories. This week’s given word is Remote.
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It was the night of the Big Match, the night when football fans and their reluctantant partners packed The Baaarmy Inn to watch the live action on Landlord Len’s wonky wall-mounted television; “you might at least straightened it”, said fusspot Fred, “the team on the right has an unfair advantage ‘cos the pitch is sloping downhill”!
Cummudgenly Claud wasn’t happy to have his quiet nightly pint disturbed, and had not the remotest idea what the attraction was – “twenty-two millionaires prancing around a patch of grass whilst swearing, spitting, tripping each other over and occasionally kicking a ball; what the hell’s the point of of it?”
The first half was bit tame it has to be said, so everyone was quite relieved to have a chance of a chat about this that and the other during the interval, and as is often the case, conversation turned to that of the weather; they had only just managed to clear the snow that had been blocking the lane preventing those on the outskits of the village from reaching the pub.
Ash, a lady fireman/fireperson/firewoman/firefemme whatever the correct term is, had been giving the situation some thought, and as she had quite a way with hoses (as several local lads had discovered to their pleasure!) she thought it would be a good idea to have a remote beer service whereby the amber nectar was squirted from the pub towards the outlying properties whereupon the deprived imbibers could catch a pint or two in tankards of their own – one or two actually thought she was being serious, then again, maybe she was!
A hush descended on the bar as the second half was about to start; Len went to grab the TV’s remote control in order to pump up the volume, but in a moment of clumsiness he dropped it to the floor, then to make matters worse he trod on it thereby switching channels to what could best be described as an adult entertainment site – how embarrassing – then by the time he’d recovered said device and switched back to the action, they’d missed seeing was to have been the only goal of the entire game – oh dear!
I can’t describe the atmosphere in The Baaarmy Inn, it was a melting pot of mixed emotions; Fred told Len he should be more organised when placing items of importance, Claud grinned for the first time in living memory, Ash seemed somewhat interested in a handsome young man on the other side of the room, the footie fans were annoyed and their partners somewhat amused ; “you can all have a drink on me” shouted Landlord Len, and suddenly the mood regained normality.
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Nice description of those games: “twenty-two millionaires prancing around a patch of grass” Good scene when Len dropped the remote. Welcome back!
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Delighted you enjoyed it, thanks, Frank!
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good to see you back Keith.
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Thanks so much, Di!
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Welcome back.
(Also good to return that little pub that is what god intended on that day Adam came up to Him and said, “Look, this place is perfect, its a paradise. All the animals are friendly and the fruit is low-hanging. I need something more.”
god said, “Let there be pubs!”
Adam smiled and said, ‘Thanks’
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Allelujah! God is the landlord of landlords! Cheers Clark.
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Welcome home!
Fun story, a free drink will always set things right with this group, I’m sure.
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It works every time!
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Haha! A happening evening.
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It certainly was!
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😂😅
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The human race is an endearing tribe. You just have to love them. Thoroughly enjoyable read.
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Isn’t it just? Thanks so much, Misky!
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There’s more than a game in football! ⚽
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You’re not wrong there, Chris!
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What happened at the inn was far better than the game, I think 😂
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…and I think you are right, Maria! Cheers!
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