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Won't Get Fooled Again

They were on a nostalgia night out. The Maquis club had been converted into the Upton Arms by the mega-pub chain Shrivelfork. All, and I mean all, of the world's top bands had rocked the 'London's world famous Maquis club' but despite that and its prime central London location it had closed.

Entering through what was the stage door, Cap and Kep stopped at the front of the stage.

"Hello Maquis!!" Kep took centre stage and introduced himself, addressing his crowd via his air microphone. Drinkers sat at tables in what used to be the auditorium. Cap backed him up playing windmill air guitar.

Having belted out their opening number they went to the bar. Shrivelfork's business model meant there were too few barmen so while they waited they talked about the old times.

"This place used to be rammed and wild," Cap commented, "I remember getting my first pair of glasses knocked off in the crowd, cost me a fortune."

"Yeah it was great, all you could buy was warm Blue Strip Caribbean larger in a can and it cost 3.00 instead of 70p from the shops," Kep recalled.

The barman came. There was so much choice, every beer in the world faced them from the giant fridges.

The barman fetched the giant bottles. "4.00."

"Wow is that all?" Kep said. Kep found seats, two comfortable wing-backed leather chairs. Cap returned from the toilet, "Cleaner than I remember".

Clearly confused and in the most unconvincing manner they made a toast.

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submitted at 3:23pm

8 December 2007