Wassabi crisps

WE are surrounded by the wonderful world of text speak these days - the abbreviated language of youth. My daughter the fat kid is somewhat of an expert at it. I get messages which regularly end in the phrase lol, which I am reliably informed means Laugh Out Loud, or tb, which is shorthand for text back. There are others far too numerous to mention, but I must admit I was perplexed about the one I came across the other day.
Now, I've never really thought of the Prince of Darkness to be a trendsetter. Unless, of course, it has suddenly become trendy to prey on student virgins, dance like a wonky three-legged table in the middle of an earthquake, live in a crypt and never emerge till dusk or hum the tunes of Frank Zappa to yourself, but a recent tale has made me re-evaluate his ability to get "down with the kids".
The boss and his doppleganger Billy Muirfield, a former columnist of the esteemed Wales on Sunday, were out having a few drinks this week when a text message came through from the dark lord inquiring of their whereabouts.
The boss immediately asked him what he wanted and was a wee bit perplexed by the answer.
"Wha' the hell does tha' mean?" inquired the Boss in his lilting Irish brogue.
He passed across the phone to his compadre who, shockingly, happens to be a Rangers fan - something The Celtic-infatuated Boss seems to have failed to register.
All the message said was "dvc".
For the next half hour they tried to work out this bizarre message until giving up the ghost and settling back to enjoy their drinks. Eventually the Prince himself turned up but by then everyone had forgotten all about the strange texted abbreviation.
Next day and the Boss suddenly recalled this strange occurence. He proceeded to pass his phone around the room, hoping that someone might be able to shed light on proceedings. Not one of us had come across the shortform before.
Then on came that little light bulb that sometimes shines above the Wonderful One's head. "Got it!" he shouted, as if he had uncovered a rare fossil.
"Oh aye, so wha's it mean then, ye ken?" asked the boss.
"DVC... Double Vodka and Coke," replied the Wonderful One. Obvious.

On Thursday night there were a few beers supped in the new old O'Neills in the company of the Prince, the Wonderful One and Danny Boy (the Poipes, the poipes). The latter was looking forward to a long weekend, which would involve a stag party of, no doubt, momentous proportions.
"But it's your long weekend. What does the solicitor say?" I asked.
"Oh, it's ok," said the voice of reason. "I've told her she can go and visit her mother for the weekend."
What a thoughtful chap.

Getting home it was pretty late and I had no desire to cook. For that matter I had no desire to set fire to the kitchen or ruin any of my pots, which would have been the inevitable consequence of putting something on the stove, then falling asleep in front of the Yankees v the Red Sox.
I therefore settled for a packet of Wasabi crisps. Wasabi, apparently, is Japanese horseradish - and very nice they were, too.