The Miners Arms

Thursday night 7:45pm. Team members start to arrive at the pub. Gwen is first, eager to get her first dance-out under way. By 8:30pm there were enough dancers and musicians to have a go at dancing. Eight dancers, a musician and Pardraig (pronounced Porig) with his new drum, his bongo drum having been stolen from his car along with his entire Morris kit. The first dance was to be White Ladies Aston. Simon, the Bagman, announced the dance to the one man and the dog that had wandered out of the pub to see what the noise was. The dog, however, soon got fed up and soon went off in search of another dog’s bottom to sniff, and unsavoury things to roll in. With the audience now whipped up into a frenzy, the dancing began. Padraig drummed out a beat, Lyn played a tune and the dancers danced. The only connection between these three, however, was that they all appeared in the previous sentence. The next dance was Ragged Crow which was not met with rapturous applause from the audience which had now increased to four, although I think two of them had been dining at the pub ad were trying to go home. The dog had not returned.

Next, a wondrous illusion was performed – The Sack of Death! The audience gasped with anticipation as the Great Whodunnit struggled to escape the deadly confines of the Sack of Death. The two glamorous assistants, Lorraine and Le Sun, stood poised with baseball bats ready to spring into action at the slightest hint of anything going wrong, and mercifully bludgeoning the Great Whodunnit to death. The Amazing Glyn suddenly realised what was wrong; he hadn’t yet got the audience to count down from ten to one, in order that the Great Whodunnit could escape just in the nick of time. The audience duly obliged using their fingers to help them count. As is often the case in these little close-knit Welsh Villages, one or two could have happily counted from twelve or thirteen on their fingers.

Just as "One" was reached, the Great Whodunnit escaped the sack of death, to the amazement of the crowd now numbering eleven. The dog had still not returned.

A short break was had to enable team members to replenish their glasses and replace any lost bodily fluids with a few more pints.

Greg and Jenny arrived - better late than never some would say. The dancing started again with a 6-man Not for Joe, followed by Bedlam. It was during the next dance , Much Wenlock - the Big Willy dance, that it became apparent that Glyn was wearing a black leather glove A La Michael Jackson, only with a black face. Apparently this is so his fingie wingies don't get hurty wurty. There is a rumour that Glyn was going to take up Cotswold instead, but decided against this when he discovered that the hankies can leave a nasty red mark if you get caught by one mid-waft. There is now a contract out on Glyn's knuckles with vast riches to be the first team member to draw blood through the glove and make it look like an accident.

Another short drink break was had.

The dancing recommenced with an old favourite of Clerical Error, Craven Stomp. When I say recommenced, I mean eventually recommenced once Angie was dragged away from the bar. She was punished by being made to partner Aubrey, who was incidentally the bookie's favourite in the "Glyn's Knuckle Handicap".

The dancing finished with a raucous and energetic Wrekin Havoc.

With the dancing over, the team settled down to some serious drinking. However, this was rudely interrupted when some members of the side and some of the side's groupies linked hands and walked slowly in a circle round to the left, then the right, then into the middle; all to the music. Apparently this is known as "Circle Dancing". However, it looked more like a cross between a crap version of "Ring A Ring O' Roses", where everyone has forgotten to "A-tishoo!"and to "all fall down", and a pathetic version of the Hokey Kokey, but with no "shaking it all about" whilst on Mogodon.

Its things like this that could et Clerical Error a bad name and ruin our Axe-wielding maniacs on speed image. I can honestly say that if this sort of thing is the way Clerical Error is going, then I would gladly take up "Hanky Dancing". It's more interesting and a tad more energetic. Either that or I will stay at home watching paint dry and inspecting my dandruff collection. I can only hope that no-one noticed and just thought it was a group of friends standing in a circle having a gossip whilst moving gently from side to side, in unison.

Time to go home. Well, the pub had stopped selling beer and the landlord had just picked me up and thrown me out of the door locking it behind him. On the way home I passed the dog, still looking for a bottom to sniff. I looked around, and could see nobody about. I smiled at the dog. "Go on then" I said.