A Fistful Of Cooksheets.

Picture the scene if you will...a test room at a food factory in deepest Wrexham, a florescent light hums and flickers , a computer screen casts an eerie glow over a dull and pitted steel table.
On one side of the table sits Mr Jason " I'm the Man" Hawker, an air of confidence seems to seep from his every pore. Here is a man who fears no challenger, after all, his word is law, this is his territory, his room, his table.
In the corner pretending to be testing a sauce, but really watching with eagle eyed vision and a photographic memory, is Mr Stuart Roberts, as the drama unfolds Mr Roberts records every nuance, every gesture and every glance. It is upon his recollection that this post is based.
Facing Mr Hawker across the scratched and pitted surface of the tabletop are two upstarts with mischief in their hearts and menace in their eyes, namely, Mr Sebastian " pretty boy" Politanski and Mr Witold " I take no prisoners" Waryszak.
Mr Hawker speaks " Our first day back in the New Year is on the 2nd of January".
This is the moment the two young bloods have been waiting for, Mr Waryszak replies in a steely voice " I think you're wrong it's the 1st we come back". At his side Mr Politanski nods eagerly in agreement.
A haunting silence falls across the room, even the ever present MFM goes mute for a long moment (It has since been reported that it is officially the longest period of time in the history of MFM that they have failed to play a song by Queen).
Mr Hawker fixes his cold hard eyes onto the face of Mr Waryszac and says in a quiet but deeply menacing voice "No, I am right, our first day is the 2nd of January".
As Mr Hawker speaks, a small but significant shiver is seen to run down Mr Politanski's spine and he takes a tiny step backwards. Mr Waryszac is, however, made of sterner stuff and he repeats "No no, we come in on the 1st".
This defiance comes as a shock to Mr Hawker, how can anyone challenge him, Here? Now? In a moment of near panic he decides to raise the stakes " I will bet you a pint that we come back on the 2nd " he says.
Mr Waryszac takes several seconds to reply and when he does it is in a calm and determined voice, " Make it two pints, to be paid when we go bowling".
"Done", cries Mr Hawker and reaches for the dogeared desk diary that has been lying between our two protagonists.
" OK then, lets see, so the 28th of Decemeber, that's our first day off" says Mr Hawker confidently, he continues "the 29th is our second, the 30th is our third and the 31st is...DOH".
At this point, Mr Waryszac smiles broadly, turns on his heel and proudly walks from the room as the undisputed victor. Mr Hawker, however is a broken man, with his head in his hands, in a small and almost pitiful voice he cries " I don't think I can go bowling now I have to buy him drinks".
And so dear reader if you should happen to cross the path of either of our combatants don't forget to congratulate one and commiserate with the other, and rest assured that when we do go bowling, photographs of Mr Waryszac holding (and drinking) his winnings will be published at this very site.