That fellow on the left there is Jeb. We grew up together. Now we’re best ever drinking buddies. When he’s not in the pub, the bookies or herding pigeons we tend to watch a lot of telly together. See the post on Blake’s 7 for an example. It’s really quite amusing.
Sometimes though he likes to hold court about events, news, shows, films and whatever else even though he wasn’t paying the slightest bit of attention to whatever it is he’s banging on about.
Case in point, Game of Thrones. I bloody love Game of Thrones. Jeb likes to think he does too but every time we watch it together and I look at him he’s either pulling faces at me, reading the words on a beer can or surfing sites of dubious content on his little tablet thing.
So I thought I’d put him to the test. I got some beers in, got some pics printed up and challenged him to tell me who the characters are, drawn at random.
JEB: Bring it on, Sir Puffycheeks!
DOUG: First one is… this. Who is it?
JEB: Hah! Easy. That’s Jeff Cuntyballs. He likes history, weapons, running away and bitching.
DOUG: That’s surprisingly close actually.
JEB: He’s like the king or something isn’t he? Sort of a Chief Bigjob. Aren’t there about twenty kings? He’s the grumpy mascot I think.
DOUG: Next one?
JEB: That’s Porno Pete, the Winkie Wanderer. He likes spying, boobies, precision beard trimming and kittens. I dunno.
DOUG: His nickname is?
JEB: Little Nobber.
DOUG: Nearly. He’s a right shady character though.
JEB: And apparently 38% of his composition is made up of Post-it notes with willies drawn on them.
DOUG: Third up. Whoosit?
JEB: Hang on a second.
Jeb empties his can of beer and crushes it on the table before reaching for mine, which I hold out of his reach. Reluctantly he gets a new can from the stack beside him.
JEB: That’s Melissa Redwitch. Religious nutter, has magic babies with her accountant, Stan. Did you see that one? She was all Gnnnnnnnh! Then this bloody shadow thing crawled out and buggered off and the Onion fella was all OMG! That was pure mental.
DOUG: Fourth up is this person.
JEB: That’s Hillman Imp. Gets drunk, shags a lot. I like that in a person. I can relate to that. Has Dad issues. Likes beer, wine, mead, women, boobies, food, wisecracks, books and stilts.
DOUG: One of my favourite characters actually. Is awesome in the books too.
JEB: In the what?
DOUG: Books, Jeb. Things you read? Apart from beer cans that is. And I suspect you only look at the pictures.
JEB: Do you want a punch up the bracket? As well as a fucking medal? Oooh, look at lordly little me, I’m Douglas Strider and I’ve read the books, zomg spoilers la-di-da.
DOUG: Ready for the next one?
JEB: Yep! Before we do, could you nip to the kitchen and grab me a pork pie? Will be quicker if you do it. Longer legs, innit.
I roll my eyes and go and grab the snack, throwing it to him and watching with amusement as he fumbles around trying to catch it. I go to drink my beer in silent victory but I realise my can’s empty so have to grab a new one. Good job I got plenty in! Didn’t realise how thirsty I was.
JEB: Ah! That’s Stan. Redwitch’s accountant. Stan Bahgrufflybum. He talks all whiney like this. He likes Redwitch, whining, cartography and leather. He’s like the king of accountants or something, got a lot of financial assistants, bookkeepers and whatnot, who fight for him.
DOUG: Can you stop spitting pork pie all over the place please?
Jeb gives me one of his looks.
JEB: One more and then I really need to go to the pub. Meeting my real friends, getting hammered and watching the match.
DOUG: Ugh, football. You’re welcome to it. Wait, what do you mean real friends?
JEB: If you could make sure there’s plenty of pizza in the fridge for when I get back too please, ta. Next?
DOUG: Last one then, it seems! Who’s this?
JEB: That’s Count Porridgechops. He used to be a dog but then got his face burnt by a mountain and then got a job with Jeff Cuntyballs. Y’know, bit of DIY, handyman sort of stuff. And some murder on quiet days. Are you going to drink that?
DOUG: Stop coveting my beer!
JEB: You don’t drink it fast enough. Look, I’ve had enough of this bollocks, I’m off to the boozer and I’m taking these with me. For the journey.
Jeb grabs all the remaining cans and stomps out. I’m not certain but I think he swiped my wallet too. I give him the benefit of the doubt of course.
DOUG: The pub’s only five minutes away, Jeb!
JEB: Do you think I should take more cans? Sod it, this’ll do. Can you slam the door for me? Got me paws full.