Tap Shop Tartan Army - Stevies Diary Ahrnem

Cheats, F****ing Cheats, Lost items and Soapy Bubble
The Story of Dortmund/Liege

It was the big one. The adventure to Germany saw a new record set for TSTA away numbers. Forty six TSTA footsoldiers and soldierettes set off for Edinburgh airport on the Tuesday. Another 10 set off in a naval sortie from Rosyth the day before.

OVD 1 and OVD 2 prepared meticulously the night before sailing by setting out a huge mathematical formula neatly on a beer mat at TSTA HQ. After a half-hour argument, they cried “Ya dancer we’ve solved it”. Hendo, the barman, said “Solved what?” To which OVD 1 said “We now know exactly how many nips we can get through on the boat. Hendo taxi for Asda and pronto we’ve got some OVD to buy”. OVD 2 declared “Aye 3 bottles each for our bags and then of course there’s the decanter”. Hendo was worried the lads had gone soft until OVD2, in a James Bond style, flipped the lid of his walking stick and said “Hendo. One decanter!”

They set off with their other brother Paint Shop Boy and Big Stuff for a curry house in Rosyth. Paint Shop Boy eats like a horse and has a face like a horse’s arse to match. When it comes to grub nobody can get near him (nor his plate for that matter). For the record Paint Shop Boy scoffed 14 pieces of Pakora, a garlic naan, keema naan, 2 chapatis, chicken tikka massala with rice, the remnants of both his brothers’ plates and a sweet. He wasn’t hungry.

The others travelling by ferry were Les Bien, The Smuggler, Mecredi, Hamlet, Bet Lynch and Buddy Drunk.
Those flying were on their way to Brussels airport. The plan was to get all 46 there within half an hour of each other. If you asked this lot to walk from one end of the TSTA HQ bar to the other end it would take longer than half an hour; and at least 5 of them would get lost, plus the rest would order a drink first instead.

The flights were booked eleven months previous. Ever tried to book 46 flights? It’s a nightmare. Credit Card, The Captain, Vice Captain, Fried Egg and Ski-in’ Don’t spent countless hours on telephone calls to all the major airlines but nobody would take all 46, well not unless they were prepared to pay a fortune. The only option was to spread everyone over a series of 7 flights using 2 airlines. Even then, a marathon session on the internet was called for and a huge battering of their Visa and Mastercard numbers followed. Some flights were direct, some were via Gatwick, some via Birmingham, some via Manchester and finally some via Heathrow. Somehow they did it.

At the airport check in desk, Vice Captain phoned Joanne Longdress to ask where the hell she was. She replied “In my ba-bas, when do we leave anyway?” Vice Captain replied “Now!” She phoned back five minutes later to say she couldn’t find her passport but eventually she did.

The TSTA love it when a plan comes together (coming together is something Vice Captain has been asked to do many times before. Generally he says he’s selfish to the extent that he comes first but at least he sleeps on the wet patch). Flights wise, his came last (to leave) but first to come (into Brussels airport).

Sadly, the plan didn’t quite come together. British Midland cancelled one of the flights and 6 of the TSTA flying with BA were changed to go via Birmingham instead. As luck would have it though all 46 would still be in Brussels within an hour and a half of one another, which is still good going. All of this led to Vice Captain’s mobile bill increasing and his time in the BA lounge decreasing. In fact he nearly missed his flight!

A few of the other privileged ones hit the BA lounge and did some severe damage to the vodka and whisky bottles. A few of those who were uninvited tried too. A special mention goes to TSTA associate member Souney for his assistance. The Chieftain as always, within seconds, poured his patent pending “Pink Mary”. You see it can hardly be called a “Bloody Mary” when it consists of 8 parts vodka, 1 part tomato juice and a tadger shake of tobasco sauce can it?

On leaving the lounge they just caught sight at the Departure Gate of Jim Fae Kirkcaldy with Jackie and John hand in hand skipping down the tunnel to board their flights. The Kirkcaldy Tartan Army’s The Kursk (sometimes known as Schnecker) however had other plans as we saw him pint in hand (as usual) and broad smile standing outside the Departure gate waving them bye-bye and using his other hand to help him remain upright (this sometimes just doesn’t work for him!). You see a lot of flights were overbooked and some businessmen were raging. The Kursk was offered £125 by the airline if he would give up his seat and fly an hour and a half later. As the philosophical Kursk put it “That’s mega beer vouchers £125!”

Eventually the first flight was boarded. The Webmaster and his son Deano went across the tarmac first and returned for their imaginary friend called a “bottle of port”. Mary Doll and Credit Card followed behind with Diesel Dave and Dress Sense staggering further behind eyeing up the stewardesses. The Chieftain sat Humpty Dumpty on his seat and applied a parachute, airbag, seat belt, safety net and a set of stabilisers. You see Humpty was the TSTA member who ended up in hospital after falling off a wall in The Grand Place in Brussels before the game against Belgium. “Jings these things fly at 30,000 feet”, said The Chieftain, who then sank a double voddie to calm his nerves. The double came into play as he applied a strip of sellotape across Humpty’s face just before the stewardess asked him what he wanted to drink. “Ah’ll huv his hen” The Chieftain cried. Humpty just cried.

On arrival at Brussels airport it was first pub on the right to wait on the rest of the TSTA flights coming in.

Before long the rest had appeared, it’s just a shame some of their bags didn’t. Six of them had lost bags. The Janny was convinced his missing bag had a rolex, Gucci shoes etc. in it. “Aye right Janny” said The Captain. “The only thing worth anything in your bag is your carry-out”. The Janny replied “Wrong. I finished it at the airport and yours tae ya big girls blouse!”
At this point Diesel Dave discovered that he had lost his match ticket the twat.

Meanwhile over in Germany the 10 TSTA boat people where whizzing down the autobahn. Big Stuff was whizzing down his voddie bottle. He sat down on the left of the minibus behind The Smuggler, who was sitting in the front seat. Big Stuff reached over to The Smuggler and said, “Here have a wee swig of ma voddie Smuggler”. The Smuggler replied “Big Stuff ya poultice I’m driving the piggin’ bus! We drive on the other side here”. Big Stuff sheepishly looked at his reflection in the mirror, saw someone else’s shrugged his shoulders and decided to open up another voddie to cure his hallucinations.
It didn’t work really as twice more he asked the by now hacked off and thirsty Smuggler if he wanted a drink, whilst complimenting Mecredi, in the passenger seat, on her driving!
OVD1 was still moaning. You see Superfast Ferries don’t take American Express traveller’s cheques and Paint Shop Boy took full advantage by offering him a loan of 100 Euros based on an interest rate of a case of his favourite beer from the ship’s supermarket.

Back at Brussels airport at last their coach arrived to take them to The Holiday Inn in Liege. Everyone was monged, some more than others. The driver was not exactly the life and soul of the party and must be a close relative of the driver that drove the bus from Torp airport last month. “No smoking” he said. Schoolboy error! He forgot to say no singing. Immediately there was a procession at the mike and a rare old sing song took place on board.
It all went horribly wrong when it was the turn of The Singing Defective to sing at the front of the bus. He usually is in charge of the TSTA HQ karaoke nights. He can cause a fight to get out of a full room when he sings. Trust me!
Anyway he belted out one of his songs and a mystery TSTA member threw a coin at him for a joke, which met the top of the bus windscreen at full pelt. You’ve guessed it; a large crack appeared. As the coin was on it’s way down Vice Captain cleverly deflected it down one of the air vents. Sadly, the driver had clocked it and went mental. So did Credit Card who asked who the guilty party was who flung it. Haymarket declared we would knock whoever threw its lights out, which probably put paid to anyone owning up. No one did which was just as well because Haymarket wasn’t kidding.

A brief committee meeting took place along with a few interviews with those who sat nearest the incident. They are The Tartan Army. They don’t do wrong and if they do, they fix it. The committee’s view was that if they didn’t do something they could kiss goodbye to the bus company picking them up tomorrow morning to take them from Liege to Dortmund. The decision made was to get everyone to chip in 5 Euros each giving the driver a nice wee lift. It worked out that the driver was delighted and he muttered something about a big stone. Nobody has yet owned up and Haymarket’s stiff right was reserved for reading his “comic book” later that evening instead.

The gang were booked in the four-star luxury Holiday Inn, which was a really nice hotel. They checked in and headed for a long walk. The first pub on the right in Liege was a fair distance from the hotel. They went there, in dribs and drabs. T he Chieftain found a different pub on the left first and looked at the barmaid’s luscious blonde locks and sparkling blue eyes as he ordered his drink. Then he spotted her Desperate Dan like square jaw and ran for it!
Some of the troops settled in a pub called Brasilia where Wee Rab and The Janny and co. tucked into massive kebabs. Next door a few of the others tucked into an Italian, something Vice Captain has achieved many a time he claimed but he obviously misheard the word “tucked”. After If Dot Con, Mike Baldwin and the rest had polished off their pasta they headed back to the hotel.

By now the hotel was jumping and all of the TSTA were singing and dancing in the hotel lounge bar. The rest of the guests looked on in amazement at how all the TSTA managed to stand up every 15 minutes or so and stagger back and forth to the bar without falling or knocking anything over. Yorky was trying his best to hold If Dot Con up.
Over at the lift, Lock up John and Ski-in’ Don’t were having a minor disagreement over the price of Belgian chocolates. It was actually about something else but suffice to say paces were being drawn out and handbags were about to fly. The Singing Defective and Haymarket were acting as UN peace-keepers. Eventually Lock up John used all the skills he has honed from fellow Kofi Annan types in Saughton Jail to call Ski-in’ Don’t a name he didn’t like, (probably Mark de Vries but more likely a fud!).

The master mediator himself, Haymarket, intervened by moving fellow mediator The Singing Defective to the side and whispered something in his lug-hole. Next there was a “whallop” sound and Lock up John was seeing chandeliers on his back. Fried Egg grabbed hold of the Singing Defective by both his collars (my oh my that has happened a few times before by someone wearing blue has it not) and said, “What the fuck did Haymarket say to you?” The Singing Defective, whose smile was disfigured through drink, said “Erhm oot oh the way and just let it happen and we’ll all get peace”. And they did! There followed handshakes and laughs all round.

Over in Dortmund our sailors had acquired seats in an Irish Bar called Limericks and they were enjoying the live music. Big Stuff met his mate over there, Vesty and said that he could stay with him, as Vesty had no hotel room booked. During the night, whilst both were sleeping, Vesty’s right arm flopped provocatively over Big Stuff’s strong square shoulders. His left hand meanwhile fumbled at Big Stuff’s boxers and then across his beer belly to his chest. Within half a second, Big Stuff’s right and left hand boxed Vesty firmly on the nose! This wee song based on Popeye sums it up:

“He’s Big Stuff the sailor man,
He picked up a stray wee man.
They had a wee tipple,
Vesty caressed his nipple
Then blood from his nose it ran!”

Back to the bright and breezy Breakfast tables in Liege. It saw quite a few “sights” and debutant, The Ferry Fairy, The Fugitive and the inchingly-challenged Action Man in particular looked rough. You could cover Action Man’s eyes entirely just by placing a piece of dental floss on them such was the extent of his hangover.
Diesel Dave declared he had lost his digital camera now, the twat.
Thankfully it was a different driver to take them to Dortmund and he was OK with smoking in the front seat of the bus and with singing as loud as they could. He did say though if anyone had any coins on board could they put them in his “hat” now!
The downside of the bus was the loo. On the opening of its door for the first time Annie Bear swore the fumes stripped the nail polish from her nails such was the ferocity of the pong. Suffice to say the door stayed shut until Dortmund. Well almost.
As Diesel Dave boarded the bus he contemplated how he was going to come up with a good reason for losing his digital camera other than being pished. Annie Bear put him out of his misery and told him she had his camera but had left it in the bus bog! Diesel Dave opened the door and his camera jumped into his open arms and everyone gave him pelters! He had lost everything but his virginity on this trip so far.

As Lock up John boarded, Haymarket hummed the Rocky theme. Joanne Longdress said “Oh shit I’ve got a ladder in ma tights”, to which Hopkirk replied “That’s no a ladder Joanne, that’s a stairway to heaven!” Two hours twenty minutes later they finally arrived in Dortmund a full half hour more than the AA’s website told them they would! Parking the bus was a bit of a nightmare and it ended up being abandoned near the stadium around 11 a.m. on match day. At one stage all those aboard the bus were watching BVB Borrussia Dortmund players training whilst the driver was figuring out where best to park. The Westfalen Stadium looked impressive to the troops and they had a peak in as they made their way to the nearby underground station to take them to the town centre.
Randall and Hopkirk donned their Elvis Presley masks on the train in appreciation of Hearts’ stopper Steven Pressley to which Humpty complained “Haw you pair, nae club colours ya bawbags and Hopkirk put some clothes on so I can see you!” The reply to Humpty was “Dry yer eyes and get yer seatbelt on Humpty, these seats are 2 feet from the flair ya Hibs diddy!”

The Captain and Vice Captain’s nephew is Paul Dickov and the good news from Paul was that he had 2 tickets to give to them for the TSTA troops who were ticket-less. At this point can I make it clear that although the TSTA are a good bunch….. when it comes to ordering and paying for tickets some are a bunch of diddies. On the plus side take Wee Rab, he’s not in The Scotland Travel Club and desperate for a ticket. He gets the offer of a German end ticket for £50 and grabs it, sensibly, with both hands 2 months before the game. Others had the same chance but declined. Then some other tickets became available at face value just before the trip for the Scotland end and there was an argument as to who should get them. Then there were the Paul Dickov tickets. Even after dishing them out as fairly as possible there was still one over that nobody wanted! Umpteen mobile phone calls, train journeys caught short plus arguments and the committee were left with a ticket still to dish out! Eventually it found a home.

On the train, unbelievably, was Senga a Glaswegian who was working and living in Dortmund. A text had arrived from The TSTA Navy’s The Smuggler to tell them that they could find them in the pub called “Limericks”. Senga gave out simple directions. She had such a laugh on the train she ended up taking them there! (Some of the TSTA left the train early for the pre-match party in Dortmund’s Square given their sizeable carry out might not be welcome in the pub!). The rest followed Senga’s raised brolly to Limericks.

On arriving at Limericks the heavens really opened and the rain then fell all day and all night (later on it became apparent that they would have to board their bus two by two!) However that was later.
The TSTA met up with their naval flotilla and there ensued a bevvy session of extraordinary magnitude.
Gazza the TSTA’s independent traveller showed up too with a quick roar of “Freedooooooooom” blasted out so that they knew he was there! Gazza had still to sober up from his trip to Oslo last month. Spud the Piper and Don Lawson, plus the rest of the Badenoch and Strathspey TA were there. The music was pumping and Scotland videos were being shown on the large screen. The jukebox seemed to have 8 Proclaimers records to every 2 others much to the annoyance of Credit Card but to the pleasure of the rest. Hamlet and Bet Lynch, (who was sporting Scotland and German flag earrings), told the troops that it was worth a wee visit to the square. Paint Shop Boy had photographic evidence on his digital camera, which showed how a TA footsoldier had put 2 bottles of Fairy liquid into the fountains in the square and the mother of all foam parties was in full swing. Colin McKee lives in Singapore and is an ex TSTA member. He got to Germany only because he sat in the spare seat in the cockpit of his fellow pilot’s Cathay Pacific flight over. Colin we salute you.

A few headed off to the square after scoffing a several of The Limericks’ excellent 2 Euro bratwursts. Gazza and Paint Shop Boy had 10. On the way, as the rain teemed down, Mary Doll bought an umbrella. Vice Captain bought a pair of tiger feet slippers, for no apparent reason other than he was monged and he put them on. That’s right, that’s right.
The square was awash with thousands of Scots, quite literally, as the foam from the fountains was everywhere. The police could have got a few people in soapy bubble I suppose. However fair play to them, they saw the funny side and stood back having a good laugh.

Also everywhere, but particularly in doorways and under the cover of brollies or shelter, were members of the TA with their carry-outs.

It was there that Credit Card and Co. bumped into the EASTA posse. There was Tam Ferry and his Mrs, The Claw (the only one with a bottle opener), Lee and Wee John. Also there was Mirza, a really likeable lad all the way from Sarajevo. Mirza saw Scotland play Bosnia and ever since he’s been a member of the Tartan Army. To prove it he produced his Bosnia and Herzegovina passport and Scotland Travel Club Membership. Mini Baird and Mary Doll were impressed.
Diesel Dave had lost his carry-out now, the twat!

The rain was hammering down. Miaow and woof. It was raining cats and dogs. Vice Captain on hearing that there was to be a pitch inspection decided to speak to a polis to check. The problem with Vice Captain is he chose (as always) to look for a woman polis to “ask” and he got lost for half and hour. Eventually he came back lipstick-less on cheek to tell everyone that the game was definitely on.

It was time to get on the train for the game. The train was packed out and the spread in most carriages seemed to be half Germans and half Tartan Army. Each side was singing like mad and bouncing up and down testing out the train’s suspension to the limit. Scotland won the singing competition. Both countries sung loudly but the Germans sung only one song “Deutschland. Deutschland” thus relegating them to second place in this impromptu Eurovision Song contest.

The match programmes were a bargain at just a Euro and it shows just how much us Scots get ripped off back home.
On climbing the stairs of the stadium Mary Doll came across a couple of familiar faces. There was The Battlebus Commander and his Mrs standing in the pie queue. Did I just type “pie queue”. Sorry the schnitzel queue!
And still the rain teamed down. Fried Egg appeared next in the stadium looking suitably monged but certainly not as bad as he was in Oslo last month. This was because his Mrs, Annie Bear, had him on his leash. It’s a shame she didn’t have a leash for his twin brother Ski-in’ Don’t. You see he was outside in tears because he had lost his ticket. “It makes a change from me” quipped Diesel Dave fair proud of himself and then he discovered he left his fags in the pub!
Fried Egg said Ski-in’ Don’t was not a picture of health and happiness. He said it was like looking at a severely monged Michael Jackson in the “Bad” video slapping himself furiously all over his leather jacket, in the vain hope of hitting a pocket with his ticket in it! Credit Card who fell asleep on the bus after the Renfrew Ferry and missed the Faroes game raised one eyebrow 3 times slowly. You see Ski-in’ Don’t gave it to him tight after that day. “Revenge is a dish best served cold, especially tomorrow when he’s sober!” said Credit Card.

Sitting in front of Fried Egg was John and Jackie from Kirkcaldy who joined in with the TSTA in Oslo. As Fried Egg was about to introduce his Mrs to them Scrambled Egg (Annie Bear’s Sunday name), went arse over tit and landed on top of them both and said “Erhm hullo”.

The match was one of the better ones. Losing 2-1 was not a bad result. As usual though, yet another glorious failure when it comes to winning the group. Have a wee bit of remorse for Gnasher though. He stayed at home for this game. He had been to 4 away games before and he hadn’t seen a goal and now misses one of the best ones Scotland have scored away for years! Incidentally, his old man Dennis was at the game but guess when he chose to go to the loo?
OVD 1 and OVD 2 travelled all the way to Germany and spurned several chances to get a ticket. They planked their erses down in a pub to watch the game on the “big screen”. They wondered where this “big screen “ was. The owner of the pub then pulled out a 14 inch black and white portable, so they had to watch the match on that! Bawbags!

The troops trudged out of the ground and it was a strange feeling to know that Scotland had been beaten and not totally gubbed for a change on away soil. The Fugitive had hoped that the driver would pick us up where he left us but after 20 minutes of waiting it was clear that the bus was not going to be there. The Webmaster got a text from his wife telling him that Christian Dailly had said on live TV “Cheats fuckin’ cheats, diving fuckin’ cheats”. There seemed to be general agreement with Christian given the fact that some of their players went down like ninepins at the mere sniff of a tackle. “Didn’t that burd who had a soft spot for the US President do the same?” said The Webmaster.
The Fugitive had come up with the bright idea of asking Credit Card to get the driver’s mobile number when he dropped them off. Just as well he did. “Where le fuck are ye? Vouz Belgian diddy” was duly sent. A text was returned by the driver, which said that a 20-minute walk was called for to reach the bus. Eventually all were on board the bus and it was time to go. It’s a shame the German traffic cops didn’t quite see it that way and the bus finally left the coach park one and a half hours later straight into a huge traffic jam. On the bus there was silence except for the raucous snoring of Fireman Bam. The TSTA got back to the Holiday Inn in Liege at 3 in the morning. Ally Fowler, who up to this point didn’t have a nickname, became officially known as “Pauline” after the East Enders character because the state he was in no one would touch him with a bargepole either. He was game for a “stay up all night sing song” in the hotel bar and quite a few joined him including The Chieftain, obviously.

As the others got up for breakfast those who had stayed up all night were heading to their beds. Pauline was in a broom cupboard frantically fumbling for a button to press to take him to the 2nd floor. The Chieftain pulled him out in the direction of the lift and said into Pauline’s ear “If it is was a launderette ye’d have found it ya bawbag!”

Credit Card finally caught up with Ski-in’ Don’t. “Were you at the game caller? What did you think of the game son? What a view of the game I had” were some of the things mentioned. Ski-in’ Don’t’s reply was not audible but safe to say a single raised digit was pointed in the direction of Credit Card. Fried Egg and Annie Bear had a wee chuckle to themselves as they witnessed the squirming of Ski-in’ Don’t.

Throughout the day various members of the TSTA could be found wandering around Liege. Lock up John, The Janny, The Webmaster and Deano all found a nice wee street café . Later, Credit Card and Mary Doll found them and joined them for a beer in the sunshine. They looked like dignified Europeans as they sat outside sipping their beers. Meanwhile back at the hotel those who stayed up all night just looked a mess.

Around lunchtime most of the TSTA surfaced except Dress Sense and Litchfield who must be vampires because they only appear at night time. Mind you they can’t be vampires because they are always posing at mirrors.
The plan of attack for everyone was to meet in the Irish Bar in town. It was a typical Irish bar and the mention of good beer and some nosebag lured them all there. Marshall Mallow asked for his picture to be taken. Now Marshall Mallow is a hun and what he didn’t realise was that he was standing under a sign that said “Celtic”. That photo is now doing the rounds in pubs near Ibrox.

Whilst some of TSTA stayed there until closing time, Fried Egg took about 20 of them to a Chinese Restaurant that he knew to be “Knob oot”. It was. It was something like eight brilliant courses and beers for 18 Euros each.
Eventually all, well most, of the TSTA made it back to the hotel bar. Pauline got his cardigan off and guitar out. A sing song got underway. One of the hotel guests was Irish and he had a wee solo number but other than that it was the TSTA singing all night. The Janny was the star of the show but Haymarket belted out a few good ones too. Wee Deano sat on a big easy chair and looked like Lord Muck with a voddie and coke in one hand and a ciggie in the other (the ciggie though was purely for the benefit of a photo being taken. That’s in case his Mum ever reads this).

The Boy Wonder was dancing solo on the carpet doing a fine Highland Jig to “Drink around the clock”. Fireman Bam was knocking back the nips like there was no tomorrow. Zowie Howie joined in with the Boy Wonder’s dance. If Dot Con looked spaced out. Diesel Dave said he had lost his whisky, the twat. He hadn’t though he had drunk it and that made him feel better. Twinkletoes was singing away like mad but unfortunately he was singing a different song to everyone else.
Around 3 in the morning Humpty Dumpty returned. He entered the hotel with a pose similar to that of a ski jumper except at the end of his arms he had clenched fists with Dress Sense and Litchfield’s collars on the end of them. They were trolleyed and Humpty Dumpty had poured them into his taxi to make sure they got home OK.

Meanwhile Randall had keeled over whilst trying to press the lift button and was found by The Captain. He was lying face down and face out of the lift as the lift doors gently drifted back and forth squeezing his cheeks together as he did a fine impression of a goldfish blowing bubbles.
Some stayed up all night and for some that was “again”. Meanwhile, The Captain and Calamity were having a minor disagreement in their room. It ended with Calamity trying to rip The Captain’s passport, allegedly. However she got it wrong and it was her own one!

Credit Card was awoken at 5.00 in the morning with a thump at the door. There, in the doorway a sparkled Chieftain greeted him with “Ahm an Uncle. Wee Harry was born this morning and I’ve no goat anything to wet the bairn’s heid with”. Credit Card asked him to wait at the door and returned with a cold cup of water that he threw over his coupon. “Cheers” said The Chieftain who trudged off back to his room.

At 6.30 the bus was leaving for the airport but at 6.35 The Boy Wonder was busy knocking back his breakfast. At 6.36 Vice Captain politely asked The Boy Wonder if he would like his teeth to be rearranged.

On the bus to the airport there was a hush, the kind of hush when an away team scores a goal at Hampden except this was longer. The only noise to be heard was Fireman Bam snoring again. That was until 15 minutes from the airport when the silence was most definitely broken. The Singing Defective blurted out that he wished that he had brought his bed with him. Why was that they all wondered? “Ehm, ma passport’s under ma pilly”. Roars of laughter filled the bus along with ditties such as “Ya fanny”, “Learn that in the jile did ye?” “What a bawbag” “Who would want your passport, yer an ugly git” and other words of encouragement and support. Action Man had the solution. Marshall Mallow was getting a later flight and was glad of the extra kip he was going to get back at the hotel. Wrong! Action Man phoned him to get his arse out of bed and make his way to the airport with The Singing Defective’s passport, pronto.

The check in desk girl was mightily impressed with The Singing Defective’s tale but said in no uncertain terms, “No passport, no travel”. The Singing Defective said, “Has anyone got any toilet roll?” As the others headed to the Departure lounge The Singing Defective was left standing at the check in desk looking like a bairn whose mammy forgot to collect them from school. With 3 minutes to spare Marshall Mallow sprinted to the desk with the missing passport. The Singing Defective ran like the clappers to get his flight.

In the café in the Departure lounge there are alleged reports of TSTA members drinking soup, yes the soup drinking crunchy crouton munchers must be named and shamed:

• The Chieftain (prime suspect anyway)
• Twinkletoes
• Mr Moody

They were all guilty except to be fair to Twinkletoes and Mr Moody they did have beer chasers with theirs. They were all too busy slagging each other to keep track of time and it was only when The Chieftain said “My ticket says last boarding 9.40. Shit its 9.35 now”. Immediately the panic set in. They ran through to the security check queue. An American said to The Chieftain “Hey my flight takes off at ten past, can I skip in front of you in the line”. The Chieftain politely said, “See if you do, or even think about it ya fud, I’ll knock your block off. My flight leaves at five past. Now wait yer turn ya Yankee git”. Thus trans Atlantic relations remain intact. They all made it to the plane but only just.
If Dot Con has a chequered history of spewing. He threw up big time when they went to Mainz for the Future Team game. He didn’t disappoint on the flight home either with diced carrots being propelled into six different sick bags that he kept on his lap to keep his knees warm. He said it was the drink but it could have been the sight of the lady boy who sat behind him, a real pig in knickers with a miniskirt on and a five o’clock shadow. “Looks braw to me”, said Lock up John.

Shortly, before the plane closed its doors, the pilot asked was there a passenger named Malloy on board? That’s Gnipper to you and me, the brother of Gnasher and the younger of Dennis’s two sons. “Aye that’s me”. Gnipper was worried and turned to The Boy Wonder who was as bewildered as he was at the request. Both were pished following their marathon session at the airport bar. Gnipper was escorted from the plane. The others looked out the windows wondering what he had done. He was met on the tarmac outside by a ring of security men wielding guns who were surrounding his holdall on the ground. It was explained to the by now jobbie-filled-knickers Gnipper that they were worried about the security of the contents of his bag and asked him what the buzzing noise was. Gnipper opened the bag and pulled out Action Man’s electric toothbrush that was left switched on! They didn’t see the funny side but eventually let Gnipper back on the plane. A story about a toothbrush would have been more appropriate for Gnasher!

At Customs, Randall was asked “Anything to declare?” to which Hopkirk replied for him “Aye we had a brilliant time on tour”. The Customs Officer said “Who said that, I cannae see them?” At Passport Control The Singing Defective waived his passport above his head triumphantly as he walked by the bemused official.

The all made it home in one piece. Oh aye and Diesel Dave left his camera in the taxi, the twat!