And he went down in a heap. A big man, a big gentle man, a big gentleman. 

Mick's beautiful mop haired laddie had whipped the 100 baht offered by Blether out of his hand. No shyness there, that boy will go far - but hey, he's a class act. He pocketed the money and then offered his handshake. That's just the way to do it, secure the dough first, then be a wee gentleman. Well done that young man.. 

Then he was gone, escorted off the premises by the two proudest parents in the kingdom. Gone before the drama of Blether's failed attempt at a George Michael tribute. Gone before Mr Toad and Soutpeel  hammered another tower of beer. Gone before men that should know better started doing the dancing uncle routine to the quite excellent live band. 

15 men, 15 bottles of vodka and whisky, 12 towers of beer ( I think, I lost count ) later, and the big man went down. He wasn't thenough first casualty, tuk-tuk required for thd hard drinking guy that entertained the crowd with his star singing turn. Gone early. Oh, well - but his last words were - "I was warned." 

And he was. The big man was warned too. We couldn't pick him up. 300 pounds of gentlemanly deadweight. We tried everything, pushing, pulling, heaving, cajoling - then the stretcher. The big man has more  power in one calf muscle than 10 men combined. Mother Nature reminded him that all men need to pee sometime,  and that singular calf muscle kicked into action. 

With a boost, he was in the stretcher. A songthaew reversed into Anusarn Market, and within minutes the big man was on his way home. Drama over, and the band played on.

Ya'll are invited to the next Blether session, but remember the words of the first casualty. 

"I was warned."