1."MITRE BOYS ON TOUR" - MIJA MISSION PATPOSSIBLE - PART 1
Out of the early morning mist a strange but familiar figure emerged from his lair and gestured towards the waiting taxi. As the figure moved towards the vehicle it became apparent that the slow moving entity was Mitre legend Paul Mac, otherwise known as Mac. His small piece of luggage was soon placed in the vehicle and he greeted the Horse and Horsess who were already aboard the chariot.
Soon the trio and their Navajo chariot driver were approaching the gates of the mighty port known as Heathrow. After eagerly disembarking from the vehicle and discharging their debt to the Navajo navigator, they were soon sampling the comforting hot fluids available within the ports edifice. A short while later they were joined by the merry quartet of Big Jack, Lou, Nigel O and Sue, who had previously heartily feasted at the nearby Artimarti residence of the former Mitre publicans.
A few moments later the Prince of Boojar- Pat Canney, and his partner Sue were within the seething port, and after melodious and heartfelt greetings the boisterous roustabouts were soon passing through passport control to await there transport to the southern imbibing fields of Andalusia.
Having boarded their chosen mode of transport, the ensemble settled in to a soothing slumber as the fortified aircraft ascended through the turbulent sky until reaching its cruising altitude.
Our host was soon asleep and dreaming about cold pints of cider, large bottles of red wine and a thousand and one fags.
No sooner than becoming sleepy and comfortable in their seats, the Mitorian band of brothers were landing at Madrid, and after a small delay were disembarking for the connecting flight to Malaga and onward transportation to the fabled imbibing settlement at Cala Mija.
It was at this point that Pat decided that it was time his training for the London Marathon was utilised, and was soon sprinting through the transit terminal towards our new embarkation point. As he sucked his belly in and puffed out his rosy cheeks, his supercharged legs began to propel his body at tremendous speed to the astonishment of all assembled. Crowds soon gathered to line his swift progress along the aisle, passing the numbered gates until portal 73 was reached without a single bead of perspiration leaking from his Olympian body.
To be continued....
Out of the early morning mist a strange but familiar figure emerged from his lair and gestured towards the waiting taxi. As the figure moved towards the vehicle it became apparent that the slow moving entity was Mitre legend Paul Mac, otherwise known as Mac. His small piece of luggage was soon placed in the vehicle and he greeted the Horse and Horsess who were already aboard the chariot.
Soon the trio and their Navajo chariot driver were approaching the gates of the mighty port known as Heathrow. After eagerly disembarking from the vehicle and discharging their debt to the Navajo navigator, they were soon sampling the comforting hot fluids available within the ports edifice. A short while later they were joined by the merry quartet of Big Jack, Lou, Nigel O and Sue, who had previously heartily feasted at the nearby Artimarti residence of the former Mitre publicans.
A few moments later the Prince of Boojar- Pat Canney, and his partner Sue were within the seething port, and after melodious and heartfelt greetings the boisterous roustabouts were soon passing through passport control to await there transport to the southern imbibing fields of Andalusia.
Having boarded their chosen mode of transport, the ensemble settled in to a soothing slumber as the fortified aircraft ascended through the turbulent sky until reaching its cruising altitude.
Our host was soon asleep and dreaming about cold pints of cider, large bottles of red wine and a thousand and one fags.
No sooner than becoming sleepy and comfortable in their seats, the Mitorian band of brothers were landing at Madrid, and after a small delay were disembarking for the connecting flight to Malaga and onward transportation to the fabled imbibing settlement at Cala Mija.
It was at this point that Pat decided that it was time his training for the London Marathon was utilised, and was soon sprinting through the transit terminal towards our new embarkation point. As he sucked his belly in and puffed out his rosy cheeks, his supercharged legs began to propel his body at tremendous speed to the astonishment of all assembled. Crowds soon gathered to line his swift progress along the aisle, passing the numbered gates until portal 73 was reached without a single bead of perspiration leaking from his Olympian body.
To be continued....
