The Sylvan
The Thursday Night Boys have never actually supped in The Sylvan. Mike Parry says he has but no-one believes him, as he's given to telling tall tales and was probably smashed at the time anyway. Doubtless he was simply drinking Yeoman Bitter in a bus shelter as usual, and only imagining himself inside this fabled boozer.
Like a drunkard's Brigadoon, The Sylvan only manifests itself on a still clear night, during a blue moon, or during Preston Guild, or when Roundless gets the beers in. Drinkers lucky enough to be in the area when its shimmering form appears can venture inside, into an ale wonderland where the Boddingtons has flavour, the landlord is welcoming, the last bell never rings, and the Drambuie flows like water. But beware - if the moon goes behind a cloud, the pub will vanish along with all the customers within, and you'll be doomed to sit around with your mates, drinking, swearing, talking rubbish and scratching yourself for all eternity. Actually, that sounds alright...

beer
quality
convenience
flexibility
at last
orders
popularity
current
Thursday
Night Boys'
status
mythical
untested
legendary
high
- as a
bedtime
story
sceptical

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