Friday night is pub quiz night at the "Full Moon and Lunatic" and Moony and I always turn out. One day we hope to return with the prize Money, but until then its just a cracking good way to spend a Friday Evening. Our team the W.I ladies are fairly good and we take it all very seriously, Bramwell designed us a team uniform; its a fetching outfit consisting of fluffy purple jumper, pleated green skirt and little beret. Henny has also taken to bringing cheerleaders pom poms with her and really whipping up team spirit with her routines. We drive them all down and Mrs Pine-Coffin makes the sandwiches. Tonight as I fastened on my hat Mrs Bagshott-Smyth came banging in still dressed in one of her less than fetching pairs of footless tights and drooping leg warmers with some bits of twig hanging from her ponytail. After a few over theatrical stretching exercises which she calls the "Oshhhha ahh" and I call the "Ohh is that my back going" she produced from behind her back something that looked like a badly stuffed pair of tights fighting with a Guy Fawkes doll whilst he burst into merry flames atop the bonfire. "I have designed... A new MASCOT for our team. It was inspired by a ..." She paused, pulled herself up to her full height, stuck out her chest and fixed her eyes on something in the middle distance. "A Woodsprite!". Moony snorted loudly and got the hoover out as the creature was shedding glitter and leaves all over the carpet. I put on my glasses to look at it and was even more horrified. No one would get in the car with it so it had to be strapped to the roof and a shower of debris followed us to the pub. We passed Mr Dingbat walking his dog and as his eyes were drawn to the roof rack I saw a silent scream escape his lips. I knew how he felt. A crowd gathered to watch as we tried to wrestle it down and Mrs Bagshott-Smyth looked daggers at Henny as one of its arm type things came away in her hand, but we rammed it back on with some of Nells chewing gum and it held better than the rest of the thing. The pub landlord insisted that we leave it in the beer garden as he didn't want it putting of customers. He supposed that in the twilight and with a beer in its hand it might pass as one of his more eccentric regulars and not draw suspicion. We had a wonderful time, and much to our surprise and my pride at the end of the evening Bramwell as captain of his team ( The Ruby Slippers) lifted the cup and the prize money and brought us all one last round.
Late that night as Moony and I listened to the local news in bed, on our transistor radio the announcer suddenly became very serious. "Reports just in that the Beast from the Moors was spotted having a leisurely Beer outside "The Full Moon and Lunatic" Some reports even suggest that a pack of crisps were involved. All a far cry from its sheep snatching antics....! Ohh dear We'd better not say anything.