“Perfect timing,” thought Mr Larrington as he emptied the last of the jar of Brown Drink into his mug yesterday, “for tomorrow I shall visit Mr Sainsbury’s House of Toothy Comestibles, wherein a fresh jar of same may be obtained in exchange for ready money”.
Mr Larrington’s demeanour now is rather like that of one who, picking daisies on the railway, has just caught the down express in the small of the back, having failed utterly to realise that finishing the Brown Drink on a Sunday means no Brown Drink on Monday unless he goes shopping before being properly caffeinated, and has to make do with tea instead.
Bah!