Reservoir Dogs (…….with added 'Peff'!)

Location: - The Odeon Cinema, central Glasgow, early '90's.

We were down for yet another gig (Tyketto, I think) and as it was a Saturday (the day before the gig), we decided on the good old 'all-day-session'. It wasn't an easy decision, but eventually we agreed that it was the right way to go.

Many pubs were visited, and much drink imbibed (it's the law, apparently).

It got to about 9pm, and after a few jars in 'The Red Lion' right behind the Odeon Cinema (which just so happens to be the first pub that The Professor got served in, aged 14 and dressed as a catholic schoolboy!) where much piss was ripped, we decided to catch the late showing of 'Reservoir Dogs' at the pictures.

Midnight start, so we had plenty time……

Anyway, myself, Marty, Chris and Chris' sister Fiona make our way in, as pissed as you can imagine. The film starts, and the Bacchanalian buffoonery is not far behind…

With every line spoken by the cast, there would be a gallus comment from one of us. I particularly remember someone dressed in white shooting a guy in a chair, and the chair-guy says 'Why did you do that…?', accompanied by my good self saying, out loud - '…Because it's in the script…!'

Oh how I laughed.

As the film went on though, we were mercilessly unaware of Marty's dilemma…..

We did notice Marty getting up from his seat and going to the loo, and when he came back in he made a point of visiting each of us to say his farewells as he was intending to head off home. His parting words should have meant more to us at the time - "..and be careful when you go to the bogs at the end of the film….." - but no-one really paid attention.

So off Marty goes, and with the stinging words of an irate Glaswegian ringing in my ears ('Are ye gonnae no shut the FUCK up…?') we settled down and watched the rest of the film. Very quietly.

As usual, at the end of the flick some of us (bellies still full of beer) are desperate for the lavvy, and go to make our way down the stairs only to be held up by scores of people literally physically retching and cursing, struggling for breath at the acrid stench in the air.

I ventured down the steps towards the Gents, where people were slipping on the stairs, the back of the door was covered in 'Technicolour Varnish' and even the door handle was pebbledashed with the stuff.

All around were people holding hands over mouths.

As you can probably work out, Marty had peffed all over the stairs and up the door, after having been caught short on his mad dash for gastro-enterital sanctuary……….

At least he gave us a wee bit of warning, even though it really wasn't enough…..