As well as an invitation to a kicking last night, I also got an invitation to Chris’s daughter’s christening today. More specifically the reception afterwards. Which is better, obviously.

After having nearly missed it due to the clock change to British summer time I turned up to see that nearly every comic who had been at last night’s show was there. They already had ample time to turn the altercation into "The Ballard of David Heffron – Knife Fighter". Which I shamefully (although not too shamefully) played up to by gently reminding Des and Andy that, if they gave me any more cheek, I knew where they both lived.

"That is both true and disturbing," said Des.

Whenever anyone new arrived and asked about what happened I decided to let someone who hadn’t been there tell the story. It’s defiantly much more impressive than the one I have related.

The bit when I treatened to stab one of them with a broken bottle was quite impressive. Although the section about me running up the alleyway like a massive jessie didn’t have the same ring.

I mentioned what happened to my dad later on. He’s pretty much of the same school of thought as myself. I just don’t have the killer instinct to put someone down and make sure they don’t get back up again in a hurry. My idea of fighting is a kind of double headlock where you both try and punch each other while jumping out of the other punch, making you look like a self hating crab.

My dad’s recommendation – kick them in the bollocks and run. A wise man.