New Year's Eve/Perfect Storm

I am a young person. Like most young people I enjoy a good knees-up on the last evening of the year. I DON'T enjoy wading through several feet of water just to get from one side of the road to the other. This is how my New Year's Eve experience started. Though this picture does not quite capture the swirling wind and aggressive raindrops attacking me from all sides.

Moving on.. having mastered the English Chan..er, Upper Bristol Road, I then proceeded to meet up with the head of our local firm. For the purposes of this blog he shall remain anonymous. I shall simply refer to him as Mr. K. When I say firm I am of course referring to bunch of hooligans/miscreants who fiercely support the local 'soccer' team (in this case Bath City). Having undergone the usual frisking and obligatory torture handed out by Mr. K, I accompanied him to the local diner. We in turn were joined by one of Mr. K's organisation. His identity is even more tightly guarded then our noble leader's. He shall be known simply as John Watkins..

I shall divulge precious little information about our dining activities save that Mr. K drank his usual favourite, 3 kegs of local cider, a surefire way of establishing himself as the city's heavyweight alcoholic. We then journeyed back to Mr. K's headquarters for an evening of Bomberman and Goldeneye. On occasion both Watkins and I let Mr. K win, and turned a blind eye to his cheating. We are both well aware of his legendary rage and neither of us wish to fall foul of it. The most obvious example being when his pad mysteriously became disconnected thus ensuring we must start again. After Watkins left my host continued to drink, turning his attentions to over half a bottle of vodka. I slept soundly while Mr. K's withdrawal symptoms kicked in. I am reliably informed he was shivering. He looked a little bit like this fellow..

I leave the final word to Mr. Watkins: "Adequate". (I think he was describing Mr. K's efforts at Mario Cart)