It was joy, joy, happy joy.
Happy, happy joy.
A big fat smiley sun rose above the rooftops and beamed down its blessings onto the borough known as Brentford.
...And there's the Midnight Growlers, a philosophical movement dedicated to high spiritual ideals and the pursuit of truth and -'
Beer,' said Tinto.
Have you ever head this theory about drinking yourself sober?' Eddie asked. 'It's a very popular theory. Amongst drunks, anyway.
Robert RankinJack nodded. 'No,' he said.
Was that a trick answer?
Still,' whispered Jack, 'you have to keep at it. Overcome the miseries of vomiting and the whirling pit. Pay your dues and work towards the real rewards of big-time adult drinking. Something to look forward to.
Robert RankinThe hill road wound upwards, as hill roads do, unless you're coming down them, of course.
Robert RankinBecause I'm a special gatekeeper. I'm the head gatekeeper. Because, although, as you can see, I'm only a head, I'm also the gatekeeper. Which makes me the head gatekeeper. Which makes me very special, don't you agree?
Robert RankinEveryone misbehaves,' said Eddie. 'That's nature. Everyone gets away with as much as they can get away with. And the more they can get away with, the more they will.
Robert RankinNow, it's a fact well known to those who know it well that prophets of doom only attain popularity when they get the drinks in all around.
Robert RankinOh dear,' said Eddie. 'We'd better hurry. Tinto, call me a cab.'
All right,' said Tinto. 'You're a cab.
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