Fruit machine runs jelly bean and supports candy crush
Harold’s favourite and only pub has inched closer to the busiest street in the village…it’s now uncomfortably close to the information super highway (or ‘internet’, as your kids may know it).
Eddie, landlord at the Squirrellicker’s Arms, has embraced the world of smartphones and tablets and proudly showed off the latest upgrade to his operating system.
“It’s not all beer and scratchings”, revealed Eddie, “it’s not even all cider and pickled eggs. The inebriated of Harold are demanding more, and I think I’ve got the gist of it.”
Despite not having a phoneline, Eddie has been offering free wifi for ages thanks to a sign he had made by the blacksmith. But when a visitor complained that he couldn’t connect his iPad to the service, Eddie soon learned that it takes more than a staplegun and duct tape.
“After chatting to the pastey man who brought this technology to my attention, I soon acertained that he was a complete dick”, Eddie explained. “But the customer is always right, even when they’re a pale blue moron. So I’ve layed the fruit machine on its back and it’s now called a ‘tablet’.”
Eddie’s upgrade to his gambling app still supports in-game payments, but thanks to the horizontality it no longer pays out.
“I don’t know why it is, but the youngsters are drawn to any screen laying on a flat surface”, said Eddie. “They’re spending much more on it now even though the activity is entirely pointless.”
Eddie hopes to promote his enterprise further by adding links to social media. He’s already fitted a ‘Share on Facebook’ button in the toilets.
“You don’t have to press it”, insisted Eddie. “Although if you don’t, the door stays locked. The popularity of the bogs has reached record levels since we linked every bowel movement to a lamp in the snug.”
Eddie explained that anyone can opt out by taking the bulb with them, or ‘using their own bloody bathroom’.
“Although I do share your data with people that find toilet activities fascinating, a regular has already hacked my code”, Eddie admitted. “It was Ron Ronsson: he shat himself in the beer garden after drinking scrumpy.”
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