THE Prince of Darkness this week celebrated the 10,000th birthday since his immortal life began in Transylvania all that time ago. He did so by staying out until 3am on a school night in the favourite haunt of the undead, Six Feet Under.
Joining him on his wild night out were record-breaker Jamie and Danny Boy (the Poipes the Poipes). Fortunately I was tucked up in bed at that time on account of having to get up early to work on the Eggo.
Next morning the signs were there for all to see.
Poor old record-breaker had never been lured into the Dark Lord's company before and was certainly looking the worst for wear. "Uh, I stayed out a bit too long last night," he informed me. "Your mate doesn't half force the pace (he obviously doesn't realise that is the main benefit of being a disciple of the great Satan).
"It was only him and I and I definitely should have left much earlier."
Then the Poipes piped up.
"No it wasn't... I was there too," he said, beaming from ear to ear and looking as bright as a button.
"Come on," I chided. "Why don't you look like sh** today then? Or are you still p***ed."
"No," confided the Poipes. "I have found the secret of avoiding the morning hangover."
Now this snippet of news must be worth thousands to the boy from Newtown. I felt honoured he was prepared to share his secrets with me.
"What is it?" I asked in hushed tones.
He beckoned me in confidentially and whispered: "Two glasses of whisky before you go to bed. It works, you know. I tried it last night."
Not sure whether it will catch on, really.
There is a rumour the Prince is not too happy. He had a visitor to the mausoleum the other day and, shock of shocks, she OPENED THE WINDOWS! He looked all shook up about it when I saw him. Must have been worried a ray of natural sunlight would strike him and turn him to dust or, at least, a pool of vodka.
Other news. Smashy and the Wonderful One were knocked back to fourth place in the Brains quiz. But mutterings of illegal goings-on have been going on ever since, particularly from defending champion Smashy.
"All the Celtic lot, about nine of them, sat together. It was only supposed to be four in each team but they were swapping answers and marking their own papers."
The Wonderful One threw his ten pen'eth in. "Yeh, and guess who was at the centre of it all - Raffles, the gentleman thief. Explains it all."
What about the team that finished first, then, the one led by Son of Bono? "They had a book with them that told them everything they needed to know about Brains beer. Came in very handy in the last round, which was all about that particular tipple," said Smashy (or rather would have done if he talked in that sort of Pompous, upper-class way).
Anyway, the upshot is that I hear they are demanding drug tests, urine samples and truth serums to be administered forthwith. And maybe an anal probe for Raffles, just for the sheer hell of it.
Fresh tortellini with Spinach and Ricotta (a bargain in Morrisons)
1 chopped onion
1 chopped celery stick
1 diced red pepper
1-2 garlic cloves, crushed
2/3 cup chicken stock
Four vine tomatoes, liquidised
1 tsp tomato puree
1 tsp sugar
1/4 tsp dry white wine
cooked roast chicken
salt and pepper
Put onion, celery, pepper and garlic in saucepan
add stock and bring to the boil
Cook for five minutes
Add tomatoes, puree, sugar and herbs. Season.
Bring to boil and simmer for 30 minutes until sauce thickens.
Cook pasta in salted water
Put mushrooms in pan with wine, cook until wine is gone
Stir mushrooms and chunks of roast chicken into tomato sauce
Gently heat through
Put on pasta and add parsley as garnish