[Raging Deadstar]

OHNO!! We havn't seen GT drink in this excess before

*A Distant rumble can be heard as the "current" Mrs GT storms towards to the cantina, complete with fleets of "Fairy Liquid" Battle Cruisers, "MR Sheen" carriers loaded to the brim with apron and yellow rubber glove wearing fighter pilots and the aforementioned female in her "What Time do U call this?" Base Ship. The Sky turns black and the full realisation of the situation falls in, Timstone disapears in his time travelling gearbox, taking his polish gf for a night of love only someone from "pampercity" can do, in other words timstone'll be expecting soon, rags who is currently plagued by demons and being stalked by gunther dives in a closet and mac almost has a heart attack as he and taz peer from behind the bar. The "Current" Mrs GT smashes through the door, her eyes glowing red, wearing a tiger striped orange robe, complete with matching rubber gloves, apron and chef's hat. Her minions of tupperware loving Mole Rats spot GT and bring him forth, the place is silent as we wait for the feline to get out of this...*

"Growltigga, Growltigga" she booms, Mac's heart fails him and taz is left pouring beer down his throat and flashing glossy magasine shots of liz hurley to revive our regular of wisdom. Rags pushes gunther from out the closet they were in and sacrifices the cantinas resident witch hunter to the evil minions of Mr's GT. Screams can be heard as he is shown the pile of dishes aboard The purest form of fear's baseship and begins an eternity toiling. Dogscoff waves a bon voyage to GT and begins unmercilessly drinking his Last hours away.

"You Promised Not to Drink at Work!!" Everyone gulps, although not every regulAr is a lawyer they all realise that a promise to a women is harder to get out of than any legal document, iron clad or not! GT realises theres only one thing for it and pulls out the only thing that will get him out of such a life threatening predicament, he hands her the credit card which is for Tigga Scoff PLC's bank account. Growltigga can almost picture the red minus numbers and the falling shares as the seconds tick by but can't help breath a sigh of relief as "Fears purest form" accepts such apology and flees the cantina knowing there are only 6 more shopping hours left!