by Malcolm Toogood

Created on: December 24, 2008

Have you ever been on a stag-night when a complete stranger, somewhat the worse-for-wear, decides to tack-on to the festivities? It is a difficult scenario to deal with, and most groups will just accept the gatecrasher, whilst keeping them on the fringe of the activities, often in the hope that they will simply become bored and move-on. However, I was on a stag-night many years ago when the best man came-up with the most ingenious way of ridding ourselves of one such interloper that, when combined with the circumstances, was also one of the funniest pranks I have ever witnessed.

Basically, the theme of the stag-night was simply an attempt on the unofficial record of the number of public houses in the city of Bristol that could be visited in a single night, consuming one drink in each. We had been confidently informed by the best man that this stood at 37, and that he had worked-out a route that would comfortably beat this within the, then, licensing hours of 7pm to 10.30pm, without involving much walking (or later-on, staggering) between locations.

There were seven of us in the group, and by 8pm we were up with the required-rate, and visiting our tenth hostelry when a very unsteady Scotsman in a kilt attached himself to our group. He was obviously originally from a different stag-night, and was clearly further-advanced in his night's-work than we were. However, he was convinced that we were the party he had started with, but found it difficult to understand how we had all managed to change out of our kilts into normal dress in the few moments that he had been in the gent's toilet of the pub that we were in. He did, however, think it was an extremely amusing jape.

Some of us tried to explain that he had become confused, but he would have nothing of it, and so we continued on our exploits with Scottie, as we had christened him much to his apparent delight, desperately trying to keep up with the pace between destinations. The original consensus thought of the group had been that he would eventually lose track of us, but as the next hour progressed, that sixth sense of camaraderie among companions of circumstance began to take-over, and he became our responsibility, to the point that one of our group was assigned to him on each progress march to ensure that he did not become detached.

However, as is often the case in such high-minded, yet misguided, ventures, as he became to be accepted by the group, his behaviour also became more insufferable, and we began to realise

• 1
• 2
• Next Page >>