Inspired by the
And what a lucky day it was for no sooner had the grub arrived (ably escorted by two poppadoms of which I heartily approved - even letting the good Mrs have one) and we were reliving the halcyon days of our courtship as all the children were dog-sitting at home: an ominous event occurred!
A van whizzed past with the slogan "Pagan Gifts" on the side. The company name was Wyrd something or other***
A shiver went down my spine and I clutched the good Rev James for comfort, fortitude and to wash down a chunk of chips, rice, chicken and dribbly curry. I held aloft my pint, with Rev James emblazoned on the glass, stood up and shouted "you'll never take us alive - pagans!" Or I would have, if they hadn't simply driven past, or for fear of getting (another) clip around the ear from the Mrs for publicly embarrassing her (yet again).
What could be in the back of the van? Goats tethered for sacrifice? Cauldrons for the sisterhood? Jars of claw of bat and wing of toad (did I get that right?) or maybe just copies of The Guardian and CofE Bishops in mufti?
Perhaps I'll never know - perhaps I never should!
But thanks Richard for recommending the godly Rev James (I'm sure he'd be in the Ordinariate of Our Lady of Walsingham were he alive today), not just for being a great pint, not just for washing down my curry in style, but for being there when the pagans attacked (well, drove past).
*The Good, the Bad and the Ugly?
**Overseas reader may have no idea what I'm on about - and not for the first or last time.
***Not literally - I only caught the first word.