h2g2 The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy: Earth Edition

I should have known better when I found out the band - a three-piece - was playing for sixty quid. But as the guy in charge of the door, I had to stay.

The man playing the fiddle was pretty good. It was just a shame, therefore, that he spent most of the night playing the electric guitar indifferently. The lady on the keyboard? Well, again, she knew what she was doing, but I've never head an expensive Yamaha sound so like Rolf Harris on the Stylofone. I never really found out how good or bad the bass player was since his potentially loud Laney 4 x 10 had barely enough power going through it to illuminate the LED on the front panel. If some amps go up to eleven, this was around the zero Kelvin mark.

My half-time offer of "double the fee if you stop now" was taken, for some reason, as a joke. They continued, despite the glazed and desperate expressions of anyone with the slightest musical appreciation, to fulfil their imaginary obligations, demonstrating all the stagecraft and feel for an audience of a retarded root vegetable.

As their closing number, the fiddle player launched into a promising reading of 'The Orange Blossom Special', spoiled only slightly by not playing in the key expected by the other two. When they joined in, I thought my fillings were going to spontaneously explode. Such was the band's musical sensitivity, fortunately, that it was barely twelve bars before they realised and ground to a halt.

By some gross miscarriage of justice, the evening made a profit, largely due to the number of enthusiastic and evidently profoundly deaf supporters the band brought with them. The only petty revenge I could take was to pay them using the tattiest and most repellent five pound notes in the kitty.

I think I'll go and start drinking heavily. I feel the need for oblivion.

And to think, for sixty quid you could have had me Well hell, I'd do it for twenty as there is only one of me, and the set might be a bit short, and I tend to get lost half way through most of the songs I attempt, and my singing voice ain't that good, and....aw hell, forget I ever said anything

Sounds like another wild night out in Plumtree

Only kind we have. *trying desperately to sound convincing*

Tell you what, mate, you would have been way better value at sixty notes than this bunch.

Well, maybe someday we could do another shared spot with a bit of practice, which we will hopefully get in May

Indeedy. Looking forward to it.

Indeedy. Looking forward to it.

*to myself*
A******e. *L*

Such enthusiasm So good he said it twice.