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The very first time George took his clothes off in public he left his half pint and threw up in the bushes outside the bingo hall. He’d come a long way since then, part of a trio of three young guys who were crouched hairless and horny inside an overlarge novelty birthday cake ready to launch themselves into dance in a shower of confetti and sparklers.

They had Lone Ranger style masks across their eyes, with matching black skimpy thongs, so to stand himself out he’d gone to the attic and filched a single sparkling fingerless glove from his Dad’s old trunk of magic kit. He had it on his left hand, ready to let it draw the eye and make him star of the show.

Anthony took the lead, hitting the button that popped the pyrotechnics, launching himself into that room dripping with anticipation. The thump of the music was nothing as the screaming began.

The trick was to find the raunchiest looking person in the place, park yourself front and centre and let her – or him – stroke the crowd into wild fury and let the tips show. There she was, blondie almost spilling out of a low cut top, flesh of her breasts rippling as she beat the air with delight. He set his dancing feet in her direction, twirling the sequinned glove and leading with his groin. He planted himself in front of this woman old enough to be his mother, set hips a whirling and a thrusting.

He died inside as the woman turned her lit up face to him and his own mother screamed lustful joy.

Right then is when he made the decision to join the army. Send me anywhere, any warzone, any danger. Any torture. Because there is nothing he could not handle after standing semi-naked with his eyes screwed tight shut as his own mother tucked a ten pound note in the front of his G-string.

He shuffled away in a daze, praying to God that the acid feel of the hand that copped one was from his mother’s bestie sat to her right.

Out in the quiet hallway he stood there in shock, slap of the double doors as they mated shut turning the raucous sounds down to merely thumping base, breeze from the doors fluttering all the ten pound notes in his G-string.

‘Tough crowd mate?’ one of the queuing waiters said.

George shuffled past the guy, this man with salt and pepper stubble and tanned shoulders showing above the top of his full length white apron. He was halfway down the line of them before he looked back and realised none of them had trays, and they all had hairy arses.

From the end of the line a face grinned at him.

‘Hey kid,’ he said, and raised both hands to show George a single sparkly sequinned fingerless glove on his right. ‘Razzamatazz!’

Radzok the fiercest, most powerful troll overlord in all of Bihaar charged headlong at Wombledor the White, horns glinting in the light of the 3 summer moons. The wizard’s chances weren’t good. Shouting the ancient incantation ‘Razzamatazz’, Wombledor prepared for battle.

In quick succession The wizard flung his fire spell, a heavy rock and a pitcher of water at Radzok, but to no avail. Wombledor knew he should submit with grace to his worthy opponent, but that was just not in his nature.

Instead he threw the dice down onto the floor of the pub and sulkily knocked over a half drunk pint. It dripped miserably off the table as the other players stared at him; shocked but not surprised. It had been a mistake to let Edd be Wombledor, but he’d drawn the wizard’s lot fair and square at the beginning of the game and the part was his until he won or died trying.

Radzok pulled off his plastic horns and glared at Edd in exasperation.

“Mate, it’s over. Just accept that you lost. We’ll be done soon anyway.”

“Shut up Brian” said Edd. “You think I’m going to let a filthy troll like you claim dominion over Bihaar?” At Brian’s side Salacia, the most beautiful fairy princess in Bihaar - Daisy Hoggs, crammed to bursting into a corset with wings taped on - sniggered.

“Edd, it’s just a game. You’re spoiling it and you owe me another drink.”

Pushing back his wizard’s sleeve to show off expensive leather fingerless gloves Edd threw a handful of change onto the table, grabbed his cloak and strode out of The Black Lion. Again.

Back at halls Edd sat heavily on the bed wondering if he’d overreacted. But Brian’s smug face came to mind and he was filled with frustration again. Brian always won, always seemed to be the good guy, even when he was playing an evil troll. It wasn’t fair. He seemed to bring out the worst in Edd. This had been his chance to play the hero and Brian had made him act like a petulant child.

Edd started the slow process of removing his costume when there was a tap on his door. Frowning he went to open it. Nobody ever came to see him, not out of choice anyway. He wasn’t exactly Mr Popularity.

At the door stood a tiny pixie girl, clutching two steaming mugs of tea, the Settlers of Catan board game and a pitifully hopeful expression.

“Hi, um Edd? I’m Ellie. My room’s down there.” Ellie pointed, nearly her game. “I was wondering if maybe you’d like to play? I’ve wanted to ask you for a while now, but you’re always so busy and...”

Without waiting for an answer she ducked under his enormous arm and established herself on his floor, patting the space beside her.

Astonished Edd closed the door and lowered his enormous frame down onto the floor next to her tiny one and together they began to unpack the game.

‘Paul wants us to have a threesome’

I almost choke on my orange juice. ‘He WHAT?’

Rachel stirs her pina colada with a straw. ‘What should I do?’

‘Tell him no, no way’ I look at Cindy to back me up, but she just shrugs, and asks Rachel who with?

‘Dunno. He says there’s places online you can hook up with people into that kind of thing.’

‘Man or woman?’ Cindy takes a sip of her half drunk pint. She’s way more interested in this than I would have expected.

‘Woman. Obviously.’ Cindy blushes. Why obviously? Although knowing Paul, he already has someone in mind, probably that new petite blond he’s just taken on as his PA. He’s a walking, talking cliche, that brother in law of mine.

‘Well, you're not going to do it, are you?’ I stare at Rachel, but she refuses to meet my eye.

‘I don't think so. No, I mean, of course not. It's just ... things have gone a little flat lately ... maybe Paul’s right … living out a fantasy … harmless fun … we do need a bit of razzmatazz to spice things up ... ‘ She trails off, and the thought of Paul being a ‘little flat’ hangs in the air.

Cindy drains her pint and slams the glass down on the table. ‘Well if it’s what you want to do, just do it. Don’t listen to her’ she gestures drunkenly in my direction ‘Little Miss Goody Two Shoes. She wouldn’t know a good time if it jumped up and bit her on the arse.’ I feel indignation rising but hold it back. She’s right though, I wouldn’t have a threeway with Paul if the future of the human race depended on it. Rachel giggles ‘The raunchiest thing you’ve ever done is wear a strapless bra to parents evening.’ Comedians, my sisters.

I drain the last of my orange juice and grab my bag. ‘I’m going home.’

‘Don’t go yet. Sorry. We were only joking’ Rachel says, although I know they’d rather not have me here, playing killjoy to their fun.

‘I’m knackered.’ I point at them in turn ‘You haven’t forgotten it’s the school fete tomorrow? I’ve spent weeks organising it, so don’t be late’. They nod and chime ‘Yes Miss’ in unison. I blow air kisses in their direction as I leave. ‘Good luck with the threesome.’