Go lads.

One of the regular punters (you can set your watch by his movements, I'm told) in The Monefiore Arms was so chuffed by the bargain misprinted tee-shirt he'd picked up for a quid yesterday, that noone had the heart to point out the possibility of a misinterpretation of the message that his favourite brewery was trying to get across.

To save him any further embarrassment, I felt I should hide the poor fella's identity.