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		Mike somehow ended up disappearing to a completely different pub for an hour with Danni's two friends, not realising that no-one knew them. "So how do you know Mark then?" he asked as he bought them drinks. "Who?" they replied. He also scored a classic gaffe when, completely failing to recognise Danni at all, he told her that Gig was a little disappointed that Danni hadn't come out (see Posse Headlines: Powell Pulls in Passions). As you'd expect with such indescretion all around, it wasn't long before Gig and Danni were canoodling once more. "He is SO cute," she drunkenly confided in me.
	Things went a little bit Pete Tong as we moseyed round to Leicester Square. Mike and Ally being nowhere in sight, Danni was adamant that they must have gone into the closest club, the Hippodrome, or Hippos (although it seems Mike will refer to it as Heapos for the rest of his life). It seemed that Mike and Ally had rather unfairly taken the decision of where to go next out of our hands. Gig and Danni disappeared inside after them, no doubt for more canoodling. Word spread that it was a ten pound entry; a bitter pill indeed for us northerners. Kristy and I followed, while Locky, John and Ashleigh went for food. Once inside the rather quiet Hippos it quickly became apparent that Mike and Ally weren't there at all, but were quickly contacted. And so the remainder of the evening was spent bopping away in Hippos. Sans Locky, alas, who they wouldn't let in because it was after 2.30. (He had gallantly walked Ashleigh to her bus). At least that what he says, but the theory that he was too hairy has gained widespread acceptance.