It's 2006, the end of a happy-hour evening in the bar, at the officers' mess, RAF Lincolnshire. Our hero, by day, a steely-eyed QFI, but by night, like this night, a renowned beer monster. Some of the more senior drinkers in the bar have just taken delivery of the finest Italian cuisine the local area can provide, when our hero decides to steal a slice. This does not go down too well with the striped-up-ones, and the following conversation takes place:
Wg Cdr: I think you've had enough young man.
Hero: I do apologise...(hic)....
Wg Cdr: Its a bit late for apologies, come on, off to bed with you.
Hero: Okay, okay, how about an apology and........(rummages in pockets)......twenty quid?
Wg Cdr (becoming visibly irate): No! Now I suggest you leave!
Hero: ..........thirty quid?