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@big_daddy_wayne
a fresh faced and dewy eyed little daddy wayne excitedly clutched his fishing rod and box of maggots [no euph]. Dad worked at British Steel and they'd organised a bus to some sunshine blessed arcadia of piscine delights.
I'd saved enough dinner money to purchase several bottles of cider and this 13 year old captain Ahab was primed. It was a very hot day and my investment in special apple juice had left me no money to purchase vittels.
By the time the works charabanc departed back to those dark, satanic mills I was a shivering wreck. A dab of sunstroke [we're not used to the sun in Wales] and a secondary fermentation of the copious amounts of cheap cider were beginning to herald the onslaught of some untold mishap.
I was poured in to seat behind one of the fellas that worked with my dad, lovely fella with a bald head that gleamed like one of the domes on a bhuddist temple. Several miles in to the bus journey the inevitible happened. I didn't chunder as much as unleash a tsunami of cider and gut juice. A solid wall of liquid hit and then surfed over my dad's mates gleaming bonce.
Fair does, he never grassed me up to me dad… not been able to touch cider since