Sipping a pint of his favourite bitter in the Plough at Cadsden, Xi Jinping enthused ‘mmm – hoppy as ever. I’ve missed this’. The Chinese premier confirmed that, whenever he is over, he makes a point of stopping off at the village pub to catch up with his mates, pet the dog and maybe play some darts.
‘Alright Xi!’ enthused regular Tom Crowther. ‘Not seen you for months, how have you been?’. Taking up a place on a worn barstool, Xi replied that he had been kept very busy back home dealing with complications relating to the comparative downturn in the Chinese economy, and that, as a consequence, he could ‘murder a pint’.
During this exchange, Xi’s companion, a well-dressed but somewhat uncomfortable looking middle-aged Englishman, stood grinning awkwardly and waiting to be introduced. ‘Sorry Dave, where are my manners. Tom – this is Dave, apparently he’s a local, but I don’t think he’s been here before’.
Crowther then offered to purchase the two new arrivals a drink, Xi opting for a pint of Old Gatekeeper ‘as usual’, whilst Dave caused confusion by requesting the wine list. Once he had been talked down from Sancerre to Angels Point Australian Chardonnay, the two retreated to a table near the fire in order to continue their earlier discussion on trade terms. They were briefly interrupted by the landlord, Derek, stopping to welcome Xi back and confirm that, as expected, Xi had failed to win the recent meat raffle ‘yet again’.
The pair continued for two hours, during which time Xi consumed five more pints of bitter, whilst Dave eventually switched to J2Os which the Chinese Premier loudly derided as ‘completely gay’, before staggering off to the gents once again. ‘I’ve broken the privy sea,’ he joked, stopping to slap various locals on the back and enquire loudly why Derek had, after nearly a year, failed to stock the bar with the dry- roasted peanuts he had thought they had agreed would be there for his next visit.
Whilst this occurred, Dave fiddled with his beer mat and pretended to look at messages on his phone, before being cornered at his table by an elderly man who sat down uninvited and asked him to guess his age, and the age of the scruffy dog which accompanied him.
The evening ended at the bar with Xi agitating for a lock in with his flies open, whilst loudly holding forth on his country’s human rights record. Whilst Dave was texting his friend George “Just in a pub – alwys wndrd what they wr like”.