Twas the night before Twissup, when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
Wallets were placed in back pockets with care,
In hopes that all pubs had proper glassware.
The tweeps were nestled, all snug in their beds,
While visions of hop fairies danced in their heads.
And mamma in her ‘kerchief, and I in my cap,
Just hoped for no Worthies, nor similar crap.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the cash point I flew like a flash,
Bashed in my PIN and drew out the cash.
The head on the bitter like new-fallen snow
Drew us to Macc, pre mid-day, off we go.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a red Virgin Train, and Tilting Ale beer.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I hoped on the way back I wouldn’t be sick.
More rapid than eagles conductors they came,
And I wished that I’d a valid ticket for’t train!
“Now 6Towns! now, Teggers! now, Sadfield and Dixon!
Stop hogging the bar, and get me some beer in!
To the top of the hill, walk up to the Wharf!
Now drink away! Drink away! Drink away…err Dwarf??
As dry hops that before the wild hurricane fly,
When they meet in a beer, make Bluesy Bondi
So down to the Treacle the Twissupers flew,
For Earl Grey IPA, and breakfast pie too.
And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the roof
The shouting and bawling of a loud drunken yoof.
As I drew in my head, and was turning around,
He’d peed in his Carling and fell to the ground.
All dressed in Burberry, from his head to his foot,
And his clothes were all checky, and chavvy to-boot.
A bundle of giros and a bag full of crack,
Definitely not one of Isosceles pack.
The drinkers eyes twinkled, dimpled jugs how merry!
But with 10% beers, had noses like cherries!
Pursed little mouths were drawn up like a horse,
But with high IBU’s its par for the course .
The string of pulled pork he had gripped in his teeth,
Let smoky juice splash on his shirt underneath.
He wiped off the drippings, all sticky and sloppy
Then washed down with Shapeless, my god was it hoppy!
He was chubby and plump, a right jolly old elf,
And I laughed when I saw him, he looked like, myself?
With a frown of his face and a nod of the head,
“You can fill that bugger up, there’s far too much head”.
He spoke not a word, but went back to the bar,
And filled all the glasses, and said “here y’are”.
And laying his finger aside of his nose,
He paid with a VISA, his overdraft rose!
He ran for his train, the guard gave a whistle,
Asleep in five seconds, his stop he may “missle“. (sorry ;))
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he rode out of sight,
“Isosceles Twissup, what a bloody good-night!”
I certainly hope so but am pretty confident that everything that could be done has.
Really looking forward to (hoping for) a great turnout, if we get that it will I promise be a blast. I’m off to RedWillow this afternoon to help to get things ready for eager drinkers and for a preamble around town in the evening, so this is the last you’ll here from me on the Twissup front.
I’d like to say a massive thanks to everyone, (there are loads and far too many to mention here, you know who you are), for helping to make this happen, especially RedWillow and the good folks from The Treacle Tap, The Wharf and The Macc.