“HOORAY!”
“Please welcome, Mrs. Ladle and Company.”
“HOORAY!”
Whilst all the hooraying was going on, some members of The Happy Helpers had cleared a staging area, in front of which they now all sat like a group of children in a school assembly (and that's where the analogy ends I'm afraid. There weren't any schools where the assembled students were all over six feet tall, had beards, drunk ale that was thick enough to stand on, and carried weapons that were so sharp they could cause an injury if you so much as looked at them. Not unless you went to school in Glasgow of course where, by the age of six, children regularly attended classes with claymores, dirks, and armour plated Thomas the Tank Engine lunch boxes).
“This is bad,” said Ronnie.
Robin showed them to the performance area, m
