Watch out! Rosey's got the darts!

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There are two things every pub needs. A darts team and a regular quiz night. Our local The Bicycle Arms, colloquially known as the Bike, take both activities very seriously.

None of our group is particularly adept at the sport of ‘arrows’ and we are only allowed near the dart board on non-match days or when the teams are not practicing – nor within ten feet of the ‘oche’ when Rosey has a throw!

You wouldn’t describe her as a bad player. Dreadful would be nearer the mark! Darts all over the show! In the ceiling, in the wall, in someone’s steak and fries one evening!

The other day Dave the landlord gave us some new darts to play with. Rosey went first, and her aim was remarkably good for a change. Unfortunately as each dart hit the board it leapt backwards and fell to the floor. Rosey got a bit grumpy! She said they were useless – too blunt! But in true Rosey style she had forgotten to take the plastic point protectors off before using them. We removed them for her, and off she went again.

The first one hit a wall lamp and ricocheted to the left landing in a pot plant. The second one, although a pretty good shot, failed to penetrate the board and fell to the floor. The third actually stuck in the treble twenty! She broke into a contented grin, and then advanced forward to retrieve her darts from their various landing sites.

As she bent down to pick up dart two, dart three dropped out of the board and stuck itself into the neck of her sweater. No harm done though. She said she just felt 'a bit of a prick!' She has such a way with words!

We’ve never really got involved with the pub quiz either, but we thought perhaps it was time we formed a team. Every team has to have a catchy name, so the five of us sat around a table to have a brainstorming session in the hope of coming up with something which best described our posse.

United Friends, Friends United, Clever Friends, Friendly Five – the names kept coming.

Then, tongue firmly in cheek, I suggested Friends Using Combined Knowledge. I said we could be known by our acronym!

Well, we all fell about laughing – except Rosey who pulled one of her worried looks. Either she didn’t know what an acronym was, or she couldn’t work out what it would be.

‘I don’t get it’ she giggled! ‘What’s so funny?’

We told her to get some paper and a pen and write it down the first letter of each word. Suddenly she got it! She grinned from ear to ear, and then suddenly snapped into a disapproving frown.

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‘We can’t call ourselves that!’ she squealed. ‘What would my mum say?’

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