It started out oh so civilized. A quiet drink at the airport, old friends meeting old friends, first timers putting faces to names previously known only from camp, bizarre or simply bug ugly pictures on that fount of all knowledge, the Lemmings Forum.

There was the merry swapping of lewd jokes, stories, and pink fluffy rubber gloves (lovingly manufactured by Tracy, the Lemmings token woman). Texts were sent to the loved one of a pink hue left behind, expressing genuine regret that he was unable to join us in our journey, and not at all harping on at our good fortune.

Any traveller happening upon this merry bunch would see no more than a group of normal, happy, law-abiding folk embarking upon a quiet, relaxing trip to Spain. How wrong he would be.

Should the same traveller be observant, or sharp of eye, he may also have seen an airline pilot also deeply supping a few pints of the finest in anticipation of his soon-to-depart flight to Seville. 

The smoothly oiled machinery that is Ryan Air and Stanstead Airport did its thing, and with luggage checked in, and passports checked out, Lemmings with chequered histories boarded the plane to depart for an unsuspecting and unprepared fellow member of the European family.

Pete, our erstwhile role model, entertained himself with plans for smuggling an airband radio on board to call up air traffic control. The cabin crew, generous with their smiles, explained the procedure necessary to depart the aircraft in the even of an emergency, which the hardened travellers pointedly ignored.

The aircraft launched into the air with finesse and the merry band was on its way. Seat belt lights off and the race to find a toilet to relieve oneself from the first bout of drinking was on. Attempts to charm our air hostess were met with glares, and assuming she must have been smiling on the inside further attempts were made to engage her in banter were made.

The flight continued, as is its way, climbing ever upward towards the home of the gods. Despite the apparent good progress of the mission a feeling of unease and discord spread through the passengers, the source being an unexpected (and distinctly evil) smile of the airhostess. The intercom crackled into life.

”Good evening ladies and gentleman. I’m afraid I have some bad news” announced our Captain, freshly graduated from the Ryan Air kindergarten. “A warning light has appeared on the Tomy ‘My First Instrument Panel’. This is nothing to worry about and does not affect passenger safety. We will be returning to London Stanstead as the monkeys in Spain don’t know how to use a screwdriver. Thank you for your patience.”