Simon: Man, we should paddle out and do the fireworks thing again.
Ollie: Really? After last time? The damage, my life!
Simon: What!? It was fun.
Ollie: Until we almost died, yes, it was fun.
[It was fun actually, a shitload of fun, but I was young then, not now.]
Heikki: What if we just paddled out with a few glasses and a bottle of something?
Ollie: Sounds alright to me. Sounds safer anyway. Well, safer than gunpowder.
Simon: I’m down with that.
A couple hundred yards out from Boscombe shoreline, on New Years Eve, around 11.30pm.
Heikki: I have, on my person, the finest of finest of Finnish vodka.
Ollie: I have, on my person, the finest of finest of British wit, intellect and conversation. That was all I was asked to bring. And a shot glass. Don’t ask, I just imagine that…
Simon: I thought Ollie was in charge of the glasses.
Heikki: Bottle for me, glass for Ollie, cap for Dickwad. Friends, vodka and fucking freezing water. Happy new year guys.
Ollie: I brought my own glass, so here’s to moments like this, all year round. Happy new year.
Dickwad: Happy new year, bottoms up.
Happy New Year.