resultsandfixturesjulaugsep.htm

The weekend’s festivities started with the 10.03 train to Leeds, which we almost missed as Archie arrived with minutes to spare, possibly due to circling Kings Cross station in his Air India plane, for he had arrived dressed as a pilot carrying his short-haul suitcase. We barely had time to buy a carrier bag full of Carlsberg for the journey, where Coops declared a two-can maximum (to avoid anyone making a scene), before polishing off three and minesweeping the dregs of the empty cans. The change at Grantham was only ten minutes to wait, but it might as well have been a time machine, as the boys were taken back to medieval times on the train to Boston, as every other person on the train appeared to have gout, a gunt, the bubonic plague or some other condition – rather than bringing with him 30 business cards, Josh should have brought some spare masks to sell. I can only presume the UK Gurning Championships were also taking place in Boston .

On arrival there was time for a quick pint at the Wetherspoons before heading to the church with various rucksacks and suitcases, looking like the Inbetweeners, as the service was 1.30pm and Premier Inn check in was 2pm (unlike a Travelodge where to can unload at any hour of the day or night). The service was lovely. As Roan repeated his vows and his nose took out a stained glass window, the boys seemed to be bowed in silent prayer, although a closer look would see that they were all texting. Coops’ phone went off during the service, Josh got anxious at the thought of commitment, while Kristy looked at Brad, remembering fondly how handsome Brad looked on his wedding day ten kilos ago. And Archie just sat there looking like a Victorian detective.

Outside it was time for photos – and here’s a tip for you young lovers. Don’t waste money on a professional photographer, when you can hire Josh to run over next to you and take pics on his one megapixel blackberry, while standing on a gravestone having run through some flower beds. Roan gave us permission to leave, so it was off to check in and then the Pussay Patrol made their way to Chez Walling for the afternoon’s festivities. Following his train overindulgence, Coops knocked back about four pints of Pimms and Lemonade to leave himself in all sorts of trouble. It was 4pm. On arriving for the meal, our table looked like the Mos Eisley Cantina, as we were sat with Medusa, Predator and a front row, but beggars can’t be choosers, especially with us looking like cheesemongers. A previous agreement made, sight unseen, to tap up the girl to your right was immediately broken by Straussy once he realised he didn't have a stepladder, and his every move was being photographed by Archie, building up the evidence to present to Vicky in a bid to 'arrange' her. In any case the girls would turn out to be more than willing participants in the night’s fun and frolics. Brad and Kristy were sat nearby, which pleased Brad, who was just as happy to sit with his wife and other couples making small talk about nothing as he would’ve been with us.

The food was pretty good – even with Straussy carving – and Josh liked it so much he went round every table eating the leftover lamb. Speeches followed, as Roan admitted that he was crying at the wedding – he says when he saw Beth walking down the aisle, but it may have been when he promised to be faithful. Roan admitted to being choked up – but then he is South African. And then more realistically his best man referred to him as being known as “The Weapon”.

With the formalities over, it was time for the dancing. The boys were initially subdued, but Archie took on the Neil role and proceeded to make a massive tit of himself busting out a full repertoire, including “pat the dog, unscrew the lightbulb”, “the limbo”, “the emergency exits are found here and here” and, if Pauline from our table is to be believed, “the Calcutta Rape Dance”.

In a change of form from his fielding this summer, Josh caught Beth’s garter, meaning he would get to dance whichever lucky lady caught the bouquet. Pauline caught the bouquet in the style of Victor Matfield, meaning that Josh would finally get the chance to put all that gym work into action. We note he didn’t try to pick this one up. There then followed the ceremonial handing over of weapon status. Josh lobbied hard for the position, but we all know he is not a weapon but rather a tool, so Archie was proclaimed the new weapon, though only until his own nuptials in February, when it will probably pass on to Phil.

And at 10pm, they had a full-on hog roast. It became the greatest day of our lives.

By now everyone was a bit worse for wear. Brad took a tumble on the dancefloor, barrelling into the band like Sonic the Hedgehog or the boulder in Raiders of the Lost Ark, while impressively managing not to spill his drink. And what a band they were – two guys who we didn’t even notice, one ‘girl’ who was about 80 and looked like the puppet in Saw, and then Mandy. Oh Mandy! We thought at first it was a Right Said Fred tribute band when we saw the rack bursting out of a sparkly top… “like two giant disco balls” as Straussy observed while staring at them from six inches away. “She probably gets hit on at every wedding”, the baby-faced one also noted, but maybe not quite the same way as this time, with three blokes carrying bags of stolen booze shouting CAAAAAANNNNNS at her as she put her gear in the back of the van at 1am.

And so it was back to the Premier Inn where the girls were also staying, and onto a party in Coops and Josh's room. You might think that four boys and four girls in a hotel room would be the recipe for some red-hot action, but this is the Inbetweeners we’re talking about, and the only pulling that went on was Josh pulling the contents out of his stomach and into the bathroom sink. There was however some comedy banter, as Coops “knows what he knows” when it comes to further education as he took down Carli d'Masters, and then talk turned fruity as among other choice anecdotes were the phrases “I took her up the shitpipe”, “he can only cum once he slaps his cock in her face” (a girl actually said that), and Josh’s unique take on the issue of marriage – “I like to stick my cock in pussy…FACT!” With the orgy looking improbable, we finally turfed the girls out at 3am, not before three warnings from the Premier Inn about the noise – I’m surprised they didn’t send Lenny Henry himself up, especially as we appeared to have Dawn French with us. And all the while the four-week married SJ lay on the bed while Josh fiddled with her ring. SJ left her cardigan in our room, but then she is quite forgetful it seems.

Sunday was hangover day. The boys passed the time piling down Wetherspoons food before catching the first train out of Boston to return home. We learned a lot about love and marriage this weekend. Mostly that you shouldn’t do it. And it was a fitting end to the event, as Josh’s final act was to sniff SJ’s cardigan on a packed tube, before Coops took it home to give to the wife as an anniversary present.

Don’t do it Archie!