During the summer of 2003 we played a number of festivals in Europe. This involved driving to Dover on the bus, catching the ferry to Calais then driving to the gig. We would stay in a hotel overnight, do the show the following day and return home. We all really looked forward to these outings which, for a while, were weekly occurences and as we all got on so well, were lot's of fun even when things would go horribly wrong.
We had a bus from a company who shall remain nameless. It was hellish. Exhaust fumes coming in, nothing worked... the video didn't work, the DVD didn't work, you couldn't turn the heating off and it was the middle of summer. By the journey home we'd had enough. I was sat in the back lounge (if you could call it that) eating a thoroughly disgusting services burger. I'd had enough.
"Here Mel ...do me a favour and bin that for me" I said, passing him the burger. "Certainly guitar meister" said Mel as the 'rock and roll monster' emerged.
"I'll (expletive) bin that for you". The remains of the burger went straight into the video player. "Bloody video doesn't work... well that'll bloody sort it" said Mel. I and the rest of the band were hysterical with laughter. Suitable payback I think.