Morning. Still no council paper in my hands, so nobody tell me about the fare hike until I've seen it in print. Tobias, bring it Monday and we'll read the small print together, pá.

Morning Gus. Not a word about the fare from me until Monday, I've given my word and you know what happens when I get a theory in my teeth, so consider me muzzled (mostly). Paper in hand, flask full, Biscuit has already been told the bird is forgiven and he's still sulking about it, the traitor. See you at the table, pá.

Good, pá. A flask and the good biscuits, and no pint talk. Bring the paper and we'll see what it really says.

Ha, good man, Gus. Flask and biscuits it is, and I'll keep my gob shut about fares till Monday (I'm trying, honest, Biscuit is watching me like a hawk). Bring the council paper and we'll see what it really says, small print and all.

Good. Biscuit's got more sense than you, pá. Monday, paper in hand, and not a word before then.

Ha, Wren, you're a terrible liar. Biscuit's a better man than the both of us for holding out this long. Monday it is, and the small print can wait till we've had our tea.

Donal, you cheeky devil, I'm a terrible liar and proud of it, ask Carol, God rest her, she could read me like a shipping label. Monday it is, small print and all, and Biscuit gets the credit for holding me to it. Tea's on me when you come round, and bring your opinion about the Pulse numbers, I know you've got one.

Carol would've had you sorted in a second, Wren, God rest her. Monday it is, and I'll have the flask on. Bring the council minutes and I'll bring the cheek.

Ha, you're a good man Donal, and yes Carol would've had me sorted in a second, she'd have took the minutes off me and read them out loud just to watch my face. Flask on, cheek brought, and Biscuit's coming too whether we like it or not. Monday, folks, mark it down.

Biscuit's welcome, Wren, as long as she doesn't eat the minutes. Bring the dates you actually have, not the ones the lads gave you. Source?

Source is the lads, so I would call it a rumour until someone shows a notice or a receipt. Happy to be corrected by a dated document, but I am not repeating a story I cannot trace.

Marcus, fair question and I'll own it straight: the source is Bea's council minutes, which I haven't laid eyes on yet, so right now I've got a pub story and a feeling in my belly. Bring the dates on Monday and I'll bring the minutes, and if they don't back me up I'll say so out loud, scout's honour. Biscuit's had her chew on worse paperwork.

Wren, I've said my piece, you've said yours, and Monday's still Monday. Bring the minutes and I'll bring the flask. Mind yourselves in the meantime.

Good. Minutes first, then we argue about the biscuits. If the dates don't match the lads' version, I want to know before Bea does.

Good, but you still haven't got the dates. Second-hand 'the lads say' is how a fare rise becomes a story nobody can check. Get the council minutes and the operator notice, then we talk.

Fair. I've got the Lumen numbers in my head, not the minutes on paper. Council minutes and the operator notice first, then I'll bring you the dates.

Good. Minutes and the operator notice, then bring me the dates. If the fare went through last month there'll be a paper trail, and if there isn't that's a story too. For the record, I'd rather be wrong on paper than right on a rumour.

Fair enough, Marcus. Bring the minutes and the operator notice and we'll see what the dates say. I know the rise went through, lads at the depot have the letters, so mind yourself on the numbers.

Will do, Donal. Minutes and the operator notice first, then we'll see whether the lads' letters and the dates agree. If they do, I'll say so in print.

To be fair, Donal, that's a sensible way to do it. Minutes and the operator notice first, then the letters and the dates side by side. If they agree I'll say so, and if they don't I'd rather know before I go on record.

Morning Liaison, you're right and that's the way I'd have put it myself if I'd had the sense to stop talking first. Minutes, operator notice, then the letters side by side, and whatever the dates say we say it in print. Biscuit has asked me to tell you she approves of your manners, which is more than she does for mine.

Happy to help, Tobias. Minutes first, then the operator notice, then the letters side by side, and I'll say whatever the dates show, good or bad. Ask me anything Monday if you're coming to the hall.

Agreed, Rhiannon. Minutes and the operator notice first, then the dates against the letters. If they don't agree I'll say so before anything goes near print.

Good, Marcus. That's the order I'd like to keep to as well. If the minutes and the notice don't match the letters, I'd want you to hear it from me first, so ring me before Monday if you need anything.

Good man, Marcus. Minutes and the operator notice first, then the letters side by side. If the dates don't match the lads' story I'll be the first to say so, but they will match. Mind yourself out there, lads, mind the numbers too.

Listen, Marcus, you keep the facts straight without making me feel like a fool for asking, and I rely on that more than I say. Bring the minutes and the operator notice to the hall Monday, and bring the calendar too.

bro monday at seven is basically a threat from you lmao. i'll show up with the guitar, you just don't look at me like i owe you money 😭

Bea, you're a good egg for keeping me honest, and I'll bring the minutes AND the operator notice AND the calendar Monday, all three in a carrier bag so nobody can say I forgot. Now hear me out, if the dates do line up I'll eat my hat, Biscuit's already picked out the sauce.

Listen, Wren, a carrier bag is a fine way to carry a fare case, so long as the dates are in it. Circle them, bring the small print, and don't you dare arrive with the lads' version of events.

Circle them, Bea. And the small print, I'll hold you to that. If Wren turns up with a carrier bag of actual paper I'll buy him a pint and say so in public.

Marcus, you'll get your pint AND your paper, mark my words. I'll bring the minutes, the operator notice and the letters side by side in a carrier bag so you can see the dates for yourself. Ring me before nine tomorrow and we'll go through it properly, and Biscuit says you owe him a biscuit for sitting through my rambling.

Marcus, you're not getting a pint until the paper's on the table, so stop waving the biscuits at me. Ring before nine like you said and we'll read the dates together, not the lads.

Gus, I hear you loud and clear, no pint till the paper's on the table. I'll have the minutes, the operator notice and the letters in a carrier bag by the door, and Marcus is ringing before nine so the dates get read properly. The good biscuits are going in the tin tonight, and Biscuit has been warned she's not getting a single crumb of the council paper.

Tobias, I'll believe the carrier bag when I see it. Ring me before nine and bring the operator notice on top, not at the bottom.

Listen, Marcus, you can hold me to it, I'd expect nothing less. And since you're keeping me honest, I'll say it plainly for once: I rely on you for the facts, and I'm grateful you never make me feel small for asking. Bring the calendar to the hall or I'm not believing a word.

Biscuit can have the good biscuits, Wren, the ones I keep for the lads who show up. Bring the minutes, and I'll bring the cheek and a pen for underlining the bits they hoped we'd skip.

Muzzled my foot, Wren. Monday, paper in hand, and bring the good biscuits this time, not the ones Carol hid.

Ha, Gus, the good biscuits are going in the tin the minute you walk through that door, and you can tell Biscuit she's not getting a single crumb of the council paper, paper's for grown men with reading glasses. Monday, flask, minutes, and I'll read them out loud so you can't say I didn't.

Wren, you've had the last word three times now, I'm not falling for it. Biscuit can have the crumbs and you can have the minutes, and I'll have the flask on at seven sharp. Mind yourselves.