3rd November 2014
Dear Patrons,
Much speculation has surrounded the origins of The Gun Inn’s infamous burger night patties, served juicy and tender on Monday evenings.
In order to solve this mystery, my masters opened the door of their cellar to the children of Findon for the first time in its 400 year history.
Led down into the bowels of the pub by myself, the resident Troll, I engrossed these innocent souls with tales of The Old Landlord via some, ahem, unfortunate humour. We met some of the pubs lesser known residents amidst the rank squalor of the underground tunnels: The Kitchen Boy relished the prospect of fresh meat for his burgers, whilst Trapdoor Tom wandered lost amidst the tunnels under the pub, seeking a way out.
Upstairs, myself and my trolleague (he he he) disguised the children as animals, to trick the feral Kitchen Boy. Desiring only the freshest, local meat for his infamous patties, he was enraged by the troop of butterflies, skeletons, clowns and witches that descended those slippery stairs with their painted faces.
To discourage the Kitchen Boy further, I encouraged the children to adopt unusual dress that manifested itself in all manner of guises. My favourite proved to be the ‘Thriller’ outfit that would make Vincent Price proud.
To take their mind off the horrors that awaited them below, the children partook in competitions to draw the most frightening images imaginable, to scare off the foolish Trapdoor Tom who fell down the cellar door on his way home from school one long, lonely evening.
In horror of these vast visages and devilish depictions, he was forced back down the corridor from whence he came, doomed to walk the tunnels of the cellar for centuries to come. The work of the great, heroic artists Hayden, Fenton and Ned can be found below, should you ever need to take a trip to cellar yourself.
My trolleagues and I would like to thank all those who supported our ghoulish gathering, helping to source the best meat for our burg—I mean, of course, those who sauced the meat on their burgers and tucked into their frightening fare, provided by the team in Hell’s Kitchen.
My trolleagues themselves deserve a spine-tingling slap on the back for their efforts organising, running and creating the entirety of the evening’s events.
We look forward to next week’s batch of burgers and hope to scare you again soon!
Hugs and Kisses,
The Troll.
