Hang on, you forgot to remind me about the bleurk from Sheffield, didn't you?
Well, it sort of went like this .....
When we arrived at the Beerfest at the rather tardy time of 11.05am we discovered that a number of hardened (or should that be pickled?) aficionados had already staked out the tables. Sensing the ever-diminishing cat-swinging space we quickly grabbed a spot on the nearest table, which happened to be inhabited by a bloke from Wolverhampton and a bleurk from Sheffield.
The bloke from Wolverhampton seemed fairly normal in so far as anyone from the Black Country could be said to fit that description!) but the bleurk from Sheffield definitely seemed a bit odd, even for a Tyke. I came to the conclusion that me must be one of those (un?)fortunate types who have been 'touched by the angels'. Actually, as it turned out, he'd just been drinking all the way down on his 8 hour train journey!
Meanwhile, casual observation had revealed that there were a number of rather spiffy posters advertising various beverages from Skinner's Brewery in Truro. Their beers' names are based on characters from Cornish folklore and were very well illustrated. "Ooh, they'll look good on the website," thought I and went off to negotiate for some. I couldn't find the Skinner's rep but did manage to cadge a couple of an accommodating CAMRA bod. Unfortunately, there seemed to be no chance of getting what I thought was the best one, the Figgy's Brew poster.
So, several hours later with hope (and my hand/eye co-ordination) failing I decided that skullduggery was the only solution. I whipped the poster off the wall hoping that I hadn't been spotted but no such luck. A few minutes later a CAMRA Obergruppenfuhrer swooped on me and a brief (but civilised) conversation ensued:-
"Excuse me, sir, but could we have the poster back. You're welcome to take things at the end of the festival but they are supplied as freebies to advertise the brewery and so we'd like it back for the time-being."
"But I can't be here at the end of the festival because I've got to work the rest of the weekend. Anyway, it's for my website [does the Bambi eyes] and that does advertise the beer festival and it's there all year round, so is 48 hours of existence here really that important?"
At that point, having made my point, I was reluctantly preparing myself to hand the poster back if the CAMRA bod still insisted. He seemed to be thinking about it when .....
..... in waded the bleurk from Sheffield with some rant about something or other that wasn't remotely connected to the poster theft. It was impossible to make out much of what was contained within that drunken diatribe of drivel except that, from the CAMRA bod's protestations, it didn't seem to be anything to do with the festival or its organisers.
I couldn't get a word in edgeways. Eventually the CAMRA bod managed to break free and with a terse "I really must go" beat a hasty retreat at a speed Michael Schumacher could only dream about!
So, I got to keep the poster.
Not long after I slung the Reporting Team over my shoulder and headed off home. As I departed the bleurk from Sheffield was pouring some of his drinks into plastic bottles in preparation for his train journey back to Sheffield ..... where he was going to meet up with a mate and go to another beer festival!
So, we might as well end with the (partially) ill-gotten gains.
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