'Might as well just start pecking at my bones, we're nearly out of food ya bastads.' The vultures squawked and began a feeding frenzy, and the manager cursed as his foot slipped on the massive pile of muck that was building up on the flat roof outside, and was now oozing through the door. 'This town has died on its arse,' he said, at a crisis meeting at 10.00pm that night. 'We need to do something bold, something grand, and something outrageous, we need to do something, anything.' John, the manager's mind raced frantically. He was joined by his two best mates, and three large pitchers of lager, but the ideas were running thin. 'Fancy dress, we could hold a….' spoke up Dom. 'Naaa, boring and been done to death.' 'Karaoke.' piped up Steve, 'we could have...' 'Naaa, very sad, and been flogged to death.' 'What about a rocky horror night? We could...' 'Naaa, and if you wanna dress up like a woman and prance about in suspenders, could you kindly do it at home, thank you very much.' next »