Carling Lager

WHEN a big story breaks there is sometimes only one person you can send to cover it... particularly if you have a staff of two men and a dog, like the Sunday Peeps.
Hence, with the other man on his summer holidays and the dog otherwise engaged sniffing around some scantily-clad celebrity, it was left to the Fab BB to make the journey to Wales to pick up the threads of the biggest story of the week.
However, en route to Cardiff Airport on Friday night he just happened to pop into The Yard to waive his expenses allowance in our faces and tell us about life in the big smoke. He was in fine form, too, it must be said.
While he regaled us of his tales of daring do, however, he was interrupted by a phone call, presumably from his boss on the Peeps newsdesk. And as he weaved an intricate tissue of fiction about why he hadn't actually reached the scene of the on-going news story yet he noticed that one of his erstwhile friends was offering him a top up.
Only hearing one side of the conversation, though, I must fall back on that cast-iron court defence of journalistic licence to tell you, my avid readers, of how I perceived this to sound from the other end of the phone.
Peeps big cheese: So, Baker boy, where do we stand with our lead story?
Fab BB: Just working on it, boss. Trouble is the plane doesn't land until about three in the morning, so I thought I would pop into town and gather some background.
PBC: Good idea, old son. So have we got anything so far?
FBB: I've spoken to a few people who seem to be in the know but it may cost us a bit to get them to talk. I will be heading down to the airport... Carling... soon."
Fortunately, I think the Peeps Big Cheese probably thought he said Darling, knowing what a vivacious and affectionate person the Fab One can be.
We, of course, know different.