Jonola14

RENAULT CHRISTMAS PARTY

The agenda for Mark R and I last night was to take full advantage of the free bar at the Renault Christmas party in Battersea Park, then toddle off to a friend-of-a-friend’s birthday party in Leicester Square sufficiently inebriated to make fools of ourselves.

We were looking rather dapper - suited and booted, shoes gleaming clean and hair freshly cut and styled. The first incident worth noting occurred whilst we were sat minding our own business in the tube carriage. The train stopped, the doors flew open and in marched a group of young London lads. They swung on the overhead handles, openly traded drugs and boasted about the “White City boys” they had “gone after” the previous weekend. “Ugh! Who’s wearing all that aftershave?” one of the louts demanded and glared at us, which was rather ironic because I was about to enquire where the stench of urine was coming from. I smell nice, you smell of piss. Tossers.

Anyway, we made our way to Battersea Park after a brief tour of Sloane Square and entered the party complex where we encountered a hideously drunk Darren B. Free drinks flowed and the food was good, but it was after the meal that the entertainment began.

One of the fairground-style games involved hitting a catapult type contraption with a large mallet and trajecting a rubber frog towards the central zone and if it landed in one of the balti dish-esque receptacles, then you won a small cuddly toy. It was further complicated by the presence of coconuts in the balti dishes which basically meant that if your frog stuck on one of those, you won the coconut.

After several failed attempts, Mark R and I doubted we would ever win a prize so we decided instead to hit the catapult as hard as possible and see how far we could launch the frogs, with a view to either hitting players on the opposite side or the man giving frogs out. We noted that the selection of cuddly toys pegged to the clothes-line running from one side of the stall to the other was beginning to diminish. Then, in a flurry of activity I won a coconut.

I was extremely proud, but my sights were set on the cuddly toy. I stepped up once more and hit the catapult as hard as I could. The frog surged into the air, knocked off the peg holding one of the cuddly toys and landed unimpressively in the central zone, but the cuddly toy stayed put. “Why don’t you just manually throw one and try to knock the little bugger down that way, rather than trying to win one using the catapult?” Mark R said as I plotted my next barrage. “Excellent idea” I replied and with that, waited until the stall attendant wasn’t looking and threw the frog.

It sailed through the air in what seemed like slow motion, missed its target by some considerable distance, flew over the edge of the central zone and hit a rather large man right in the bollocks.

Further incidents included starting conversation with a colleague with a James Bond style “Ah, Miss Hunnissett…” and telling my boss that he had come second in the ‘Who’s Wearing the Worst Tie Competition’.

By then it was high time we left so a taxi was hailed and we journeyed to Leicester Square for party number two. Having convinced the driver that we worked for Aston Martin and had been to the Minnellium Stadium two times, we exited the cab only for Mark to open the door straight into a lamp-post, leaving a rather large and highly noticeable scratch down the door panel.

Bloody good night all in all.