An old guy with beard and glasses stumbles in through the door, he has a back-packer guitar over one shoulder and a bag with a cat's tail sticking out of it over the other. "Gimmee a big shot of shine with a Marmite top" he rasps. The bartender looks through the jumbled selection of fly-blown bottles of Tabasco, Bovril, shrub, ketchup and other strange concoctions piled at the back of the bar - "Cain't find no Marmite" he says. The old man coughs and spits - missing the spittoon and scoring a direct hit on the desperate looking woman crawling out of the ladies bog, "Shite, you'm as bad as the folks at Harlow - try looking over there with the jam". The bartender finds it and spoons a big dollop of dark brown goo into the shine which starts to smoke ominously. The old man takes his drink to a corner table and tries to surrepticiously toss the bag into the ladies bog, only to knock the spittoon all over the woman who has managed to get to her feet and is trying to pull up her draws.