Stay Fluffy and utterly epic as mew explore BBHQ adventures, Mewton‑Clawson’s cosy village charm, and all the cat‑tastic gossip from Wing Commander Basil & The B Team.
Happy Monday, epic furiends
Welcome to Epsisode 2 of brand‑new feature, where we take mew outside the gates of BBHQ and into the heart of Mewton‑Clawson to meet the locals, explore the village, and share all the gossip that’s far too juicy for the Midweek News! MOL
Last time, mew met Hissy Furrton at the Nip & Nom Tea Shoppe ~ queen of cake, connoisseur of catnip brownies, and unofficial inspector of cherry slices, plus hot gossip aficionado.
This week, we’re heading somewhere a little louder, a little livelier, and a lot more chaotic…
A Map of Mewton-Clawson
Obviously, we've had to change a few things to remain anonymous in the English countryside, but mew get the picture!
Yeah, we don't want an ambush if we can help it! MOL
Today we're introducing mew to Hamish McClaw; he runs The Quarter Moon pub on Main Street just forty yards from the BBHQ gates, which is awfully convenient - especially on Fish & Chip Night! MOL
Some of mew may remember last year’s Annual Mewton‑Clawson Zombie Hunt, during which we saved the pub from being overrun by the undead. Hamish was so grateful, as he'd run out of ammo (FYI: he was only a spectator that night), he gave us a reduced bar tab for an entire month, though Amber still insists it should’ve been two! MOL
Hamish is the proud owner and landlord of The Quarter Moon, the beating heart of village life, gossip, and occasional chaos. He’s an orange tabby with a booming voice, a fondness for “just a wee dram,” and a wardrobe full of tweed that could rival a Highland tailor.
The pub is supurr popular with the locals. And if mew ever wander down Main Street on a Friday night, mew'll find locals swapping gossip, raising a tankard, enjoying a wee dram, or trying to survive Amber's latest cocktail experiment while Thriftee Manx gives her the death‑glare from behind the bar.
So this week, Smooch asked Hamish to tell us more about what he loves about The Quarter Moon, and trust us, his answer is every bit as colourful as mew’d expect.
MEET HAMISH McClaw ~ LANDLORD, FORMER BRIGADIER, FULL‑TIME WILD CARD
Hamish, a rugged Scottish cat with a tankard of “Brigadier’s Brew.” His whiskers are fierce, his stance commanding, and his expression says: “I’ve seen things, laddie.”
He served as a brigadier in the Royal Feline Regiment before retiring early to run The Quarter Moon Pub with military precision and a wee dram of whisskee. He’s loud, proud, unpredictable, and the only cat who can silence a room with a single whisker twitch.
He hosts:
Pie & Mash Night (Monday)
Cribbage or Dominoes Night (Tuesday)
Fish & Chip Night (Wednesday)
Poker Night (Thursday)
Karaoke Night (Friday)
Caturday Live Music ~ last week’s 80s revival band + hog roast + fairy lights in the garden at the back of the pub was legendary!
Take it Easy Night* (Sunday)
And yes, the B Team attends all of them, not every week, but we're there! MOL
The regular pub menu is epic, plus for those in the village, we can pick up the food for takeaway; yep, it is furbulous. (But more about that in Epsiode 3 when we meet the chef.)
*Early closing, although Amber believes the pub can stay open as long as she's having a good time!
Which night would mew attend first?
Hamish’s Favourite Place: The Quarter Moon Pub
This week, Smooch asked Hamish to tell us all about his favourite place in the village, and without a flicker of hesitation, his answer was The Quarter Moon Pub, and as landlord, of course it is.
Well now, I enjoy a quiet stroll past the standing stones and a nip of sherry at the Nip & Nom (yes, they have a beer license too) when the weather’s fine. Happy Hour that starts at 4 pm, but there’s something rather special about The Quarter Moon.
Firstly, the whisskee.
There’s no finer dram in all of Mewton‑Clawson, smooth, smoky, and poured with precision. “Just a wee one.” Though my definition of wee is questionable! MOL
Secondly, the camaraderie.
Poker nights, cribbage and domino tournaments, karaoke chaos, and Caturday live music - there’s always something happening. The fairy lights twinkle, the laughter spills out into the car park, and the smell of fish and chips, or whatever delight is on the menu that night, mingles with the summer air. It’s the kind of place where everypawdy knows everypawdy, and the gossip flows faster than the ale.
But if I'm being honest, my favourite thing about The Quarter Moon isn’t the drink or the games.
It’s the atmosphere.
The pub garden is dotted with dark‑stained benches and cream umbrellas, surrounded by hanging baskets bursting with colour, reds, oranges, yellows, and whites. The stone troughs overflow with blooms, and the porch glows warmly as evening falls. There’s always a hum of chatter, a burst of laughter, and the occasional shout of “Amber, put that umbrella back!”
And because The Quarter Moon sits right in the heart of Mewton‑Clawson, everypawdy passes through sooner or later, from the B Team to the Rainbow Realm visitors, and even the odd squirrel trying to sneak a chip.
Mew can sit quietly with a pint, watch the sunset over the green, and listen to me telling tales from my brigadier days, stories of bravery, biscuits, and the time I accidentally marched an entire regiment into a tea shop in South Kensington.
Quite frankly, if mew want to know what’s happening in the district, there’s no better place to be than a bench outside The Quarter Moon with a tankard in paw and me holding court.
Though I would recommend arriving early if Amber’s on the cocktails.
They have an unfortunate tendency to disappear rather quickly… MOL!
Hamish McClaw
Hot Gossip from the QUARTER MOON WITH HAMISH MCCLAW
Where the drinks are cold, the whisskee is strong, and the secrets are stronger.
A Chat Between Smooch & Hamish ~ The Karaoke Chaos Edition
Smooch: Hamish, dude, mew look like mew’ve aged nine lives since Friday. What happened?
Hamish: Smooch, laddie… Karaoke Night was a battlefield. Amber ordered a “quadruple Catnip Spritz” then tried tae duet wi’ Snowie. Snowie sings like an angel. Amber… doesnae.
Smooch: I heard Glenda Filcher tried to do an 80s power ballad.
Hamish: Tried? She performed it. On top o’ the fruit machine. I had tae shout “GET DOON!” louder than I did in the regiment.
Smooch: And Thriftee?
Hamish: Ach, she confiscated Amber’s cocktail umbrella collection. Said they were “a hazard.”
Smooch: Sounds about right. Any other drama?
Hamish: Cyril Fuddleton announced he’s dedicatin’ his “romantic hideaway” tae Petunia Whiskerby. Petunia fainted. Mildred Snicklet blamed the hog roast. Trevor Whimbleton claimed he saw a ghost in the beer garden... turned oot it was Posie materialisin’ from the Rainbow Realm.
Smooch: Classic Posie.
Hamish: And then… then the fairy lights shorted oot because Amber spilt her drink. Again.
Smooch: Every week, Hamish. Every week.
Hamish: Aye. But that’s Mewton‑Clawson, laddie. Chaos, conga lines, cocktails, and cats. Wouldnae change it for the world.
✨ HAMISH’S QUOTE OF THE DAY ✨
“Laddie, in Mewton‑Clawson the whisskee is warm, the music is loud, and the gossip travels faster than a runaway conga line.”
Hoping mew have a furbulous day, and remember to always...
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