The second club to open in the KH unofficial club register was based at Stowe-On-The-Wold and along with all two members of it - Molly X who's mother owned the fag shop, and Molly X's mate whoe's mother worked there where neither liked us, and we didn't like them and the only way to get either to hand over a packet of Woodbines was to get either Molly or her mate to go in there and nick us a swift ten each.

Now in those days one good hard draw on a Wills Woodbine was more than enough to turn you into some kind of interesting shade of green whilst the same procedure (with legs parted for stability and both hands over ones ears although no one ever knew quite why this was necessary) with a Turf special would reek havoc with your lower limbs as they gave way to what you were doing with the upper limbs which was namely to impress everyone with your 'half inch draw' that unfailingly turned your gills yellow at the same time as giving you a serious attack of lockjaw and with only a 5 mile walk back to the hill in which to get rid of it and turn back to normal ( which for a KH boy was a kinda light grey with a healthy ring of mould that flourished in rampant profussion on the extremeties and wasn't affected by carbolic soap around the edges, or a good dosing of parrafin for which there was really known no cure and no one really cared whether there was or there wasn't)

However, we managed to smoke like chimneys in this manner every saturday without fail and avoided six of the best every monday for doing so - Until - a new fag hit the market and that included the Stow fag shop and were imported from Turkey which, of course, tells you everything - they were bloody lethal to say the least and just one puff at the Stow Strumpet Club was enoujgh to floor one of us and both female Strumpateers, Molly X and her Strumpet mate, where the kiss of life was required which, unfortunately to a budding Adonis, was provided for by Molly's Mum and her assistant where we were all scuttled off in the back of an ancient delivery van straight over to the San and dumped outside whilst all was explained to Matron although nowhere near as good as the explanation that we gave to the headmaster who didn't believe a word of it anyway but couldn't believe even more so why a gallant band of KH's best - well me anyway - would choose to smoke rope in great clouds of smoke when they knew exactly what would become of them or, to be more precise, their backsides if ever they were caught and, sure enough, as the Stow Strumpet Club went into recievership and taken off the stock market, several pairs of trousers smoked to the impact of six of the best apiece and, where after no doubt, the headmaster had a quick Capstan Full Strength or two as he filled in the punishment book !

Dizzy D

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