On a wooden pub sign daringly taken, one daylight raid, by a drunken Barley Gobbitch, across which still survives in intaglio the legend SNIPE AND SHAFT, Teddy Bloat is mincing bananas with a great
isoceles knife, from beneath whose nervous blade Pirate with one hand shovels the blond mash into waffle batter resilient with fresh hens' eggs, for which Osbie Feel has exchanged an equal number of golf balls, these being even rarer this winter than real eggs, other hand blending the fruit in, not overvigorously, with a wire whisk, whilst surly Osbie himself, sucking frequently at the half-pint milkbottle filled with VAT 69 and water, tends to the bananas in the skillet and broiler.