If you were wondering what happened to the strawberry trifle, two plates of jammy-devils, a napoleon cake and a large bowl of cocktail sausages, wonder no longer. There’s no supervision under the table, not least because Roddy’s more likely to aid and abet than actually lecture the kids for petty theft and eating too much cake.
(when did this turn into 24-7 adorable, my goodness, it’s ridiculous, i have an IMAGE to maintain. Excuse me while I scuttle off to draw something covered in biceps and casual obscenity)
“It was funny for us scruffy little buggers coming in suddenly being ‘The Fabs’ topping the bill. Our act was basically the one we had been doing at the Cavern, except that our suits were getting a bit more expensive and by now we’d had a couple of hit records to spice things up a bit….We were suddenly mixing with all these people and thinking: ‘Hey, we shouldn’t really be doing this because, really, we’re just little slugs.’
George writing, in his indomitable style, about the early days of fame and Fabs in Fifty Years Adrift.