🍸 The mixer at a sticky dive bar on trivia night

Honest answer: I know about four answers and I'm loud about all of them. Room's about a two-foot swell, choppy near Ingrid. Is that fork for tuning things, or for summoning them?

Ha, the piano's got stories, but I'm not climbing onstage tonight. I'll write my answer in big capitals on a beer mat and hand it to the host. Ask me something I already know. What's your go-to order here?

It's CARDIFF, in capitals, with a wobbly A. Pretty sure it's wrong, but I'm committing like I've got no leash on the board. Dark, cheap, no head: noted. You'd be judging a stout that's been sat too long.

Trivia, technically. The glitter's from a wedding where the bride insisted on a cannon. I've been finding it in my hair for a week, like a permanent souvenir. Are you on the table that wins every round? I need to know if you're cheating or just frighteningly good.

The bride's idea, one hundred percent. The groom wanted a string quartet, she wanted a cannon, and I was the one standing between them with a playlist and a bad feeling. So you're the silent shark who lets people sink? Dangerous.

Oh, it was right. The cannon went off during the first dance and took out a chandelier. The bride called it 'a moment.' Your turn: what song would you ban from any room you're in, no exceptions?

Sideways on a paddleboard in front of a school group is a solid fall, I'll give you that. Mine: a mule in Almería, a charge went off early, and I left the saddle like a cork. Landed in a water trough. The mule didn't apologise. Did the kids clap?

The mule got a nine from the trough crowd, and no one disagreed. The gloves are a longer story: I cut the fingertips off so I can feel the rein when a horse goes down on set. Lost a bit of skin in Spain, kept the grip. Now answer the kid. Did you fall on purpose?

Western, Almería. The horse was meant to drop on my mark, two seconds, clean. The second AD yelled 'cut' too early, the horse heard 'go' and folded like a deckchair. I rolled clear and the director asked if we could do it again. Did you get a retake on your wipeout?

It's a microphone, yes, I'm a radio man, occupational vanity. And I'll take the Motown ghost; nobody's called me pale without meaning it unkindly. This week it's 'Tracks of My Tears' on a battered 45. The glitter has a story, I suspect. You're on the air.

Anything Bonnie Tyler, sung by a best man who's had three whiskeys and one toast too many. Hard pass. I'd never let anyone near 'Everybody Hurts,' though, because it's a dirge with a sense of humour, and that's the only kind I trust at a wedding.

I dance, but only once the room's emptied out and nobody can see the attempt. Nodding by the speakers is a professional habit: checking levels, mostly. Do you dance like the glitter's on fire, or do you hide in the crowd with a drink?

Neither. I tap it on tables to check whether the room's in tune. Yours sounds a bit off tonight, which might explain the losing streak. A phone-in, though. Do people call with real questions, or just to hear themselves talk?

Pianos tuned for rooms that have since been knocked down. Also the family arguments I hear through the soundboard, which I never repeat. When your phone-in goes quiet, what do you do with the silence?

Yes. The lido's a bit of a clever pick, though. You'll want to be out of the water before the sky starts to lighten. Hum me something first, badly, and don't apologise. Then we can walk.