On Monday the Monday Night Group (clue's in the name) got together to write, drink beer and talk rubbish. Several ex-writers and their drinking support team ducked the writing bit and went straight to the pub. As usual, we warmed up with "What've you been up to?", before heading for the stupid stuff. Even trained professionals need to warm up.
My mate Paul and I were comparing Sunday evening. I had visited my brother, Paul had spent a quiet night at home. I was describing the Sunday night cat-fight at my brother's house. Paul knows all about the Reservoir Mogs and their sidekicks (Southern Chapter and the Salford posse). The Salford Posse belong to my brother - Red, Blue and Pumphrey and they are suffering. Next door have acquired a kitten (young Shadow) and he is trying to take over the garden. Red is staying out of the scrap, Blue is fighting her corner in a real death-or-glory struggle, and Pumphrey is just heading for a nervous breakdown. Blue can't really fight for long, so she saved her energy for a short but spectacular attack, spoilt only by the fact that Shadow danced off, oblivious, to chase a squirrel.
Paul's verdict? "Put a Pink Floyd soundtrack on that, and you've still got more action than a whole series of Heartbeat."
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