Don't panic, we are in our street clothes, looking completely normal, well as normal as can be! 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 Episode 4 of our brand‑new series, where we take mew outside the gates of BBHQ and into Mewton‑Clawson to meet the locals, explore the village, and share all the gossip that’s far too juicy for the Midweek News! MOL
First 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.
And in episode 2, Hamish McClaw, landlord and owner of The Quarter Moon Pub.
In episode 3, we stayed at The Quarter Moon and headed into the kitchen with Aurora Purrzmore.
Today we're still at The Quarter Moon, and heading into the bar.
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 Thriftee Manx, the famously unflappable lady behind the bar at The Quarter Moon and quite possibly the only cat in Mewton-Clawson capable of looking at Amber's latest cocktail request and making the lemon slice wither! MOL
Some of mew will already know Thriftee, she was at Melvyn's Motor Muster in the summer... where Amber asked for a quadruple before uttering the immortal words, “I'll get my own.” Thriftee was not impressed! MOL
She's usually found behind the bar keeping the drinks flowing, the locals in order, and a particularly watchful eye on Amber whenever the words "quadruple Catnip Spritz" are uttered.
And if mew read our last visit to The Quarter Moon, mew may also remember Aurora Purrzmore's rather concise assessment of her colleague:
"Very sour."
Well...
It turns out there's considerably more to Thriftee Manx than the expression she wears behind the bar.
Before arriving in Mewton-Clawson, Thriftee lived in the nearby small town of Muskham-in-the-Marsh, about five miles away, where she was a primary-school teacher. Teaching suited her purrfectly.
Thriftee is highly academic, loves books, has the patience to explain something seventeen different ways if necessary, and has absolutely no time for anypawdy suggesting that a kitten struggling at school simply isn't clever enough.
Unfortunately, the local council had other ideas about the future of education in Muskham. Budget cuts arrived, the school closed and the local kittens were transferred to the larger school in Gribblers-Puddling.
Thriftee, however, wasn't one to sit around feeling sorry for herself, so she found a new position at Muskham-in-the-Marsh Library, and she loved it. Books, readers, research, local history, proper organisation and, presumably, far fewer small paws putting glue in inappropriate places. For a while, everything was good, and then the council cuts struck again.
With local reading figures apparently too low to justify keeping the library open, the doors were closed for good, and Thriftee lost her second career. And just to add insult to injury... the old library is now a charity shop. We strongly recommend not mentioning the fifty-pence second-hand book shelf in Thriftee's presence!!! MOL
But losing the library also created another problem.
Thriftee's accommodation in Muskham had originally come with her teaching position and continued while she worked at the library. Once the library closed, she didn't just need another job.
She needed somewhere to live. Enter Willhumeenia Snozrazzle.
Willie, being one of the most benevolent cats in the district, happened to have a vacant cottage available on Hag Lane, the quiet half-mile lane running from the other end of Mewton-Clawson towards Fuskerton Grange.
The cottage was spacious, rent was cheap. All the important bits worked, but there was just one minor issue. It was rather... neglected.
Actually, the garden looked as though the brambles had staged a hostile takeover and won. Thriftee took one look at it and apparently decided she'd finally found something she could do something about.
Those brambles never stood a chance!!! MOL
Over time, she transformed the cottage and garden into something quite meautiful, created a small library of her own inside, and made herself a new home.
But a home still required paying for.
And after two careers had disappeared courtesy of council cuts, the only regular work Thriftee could find locally was behind the bar at The Quarter Moon.
Which is how a former teacher and librarian ended up pulling pints for Hamish McClaw six days a week.
Naturally, when Thriftee first arrived, The B Team gave her our usual warm Mewton-Clawson welcome.
Then Amber walked into the pub... Oh dear! Because Thriftee already knew Amber.
The two had met several times over the years at local library events, where Thriftee had been purrfectly cordial. But she'd also formed a few opinions about the rather glamorous cat who ran the legendary private Mewton-Clawson Library.
Namely, that Amber was rich, privileged, entitled and had probably never needed to worry about a council budget in her life.
There was only one problem with that assessment. It wasn't true.
Amber hadn't been handed MCL on a silver platter. She'd built it from the ground up through years of determination, hard work, questionable amounts of caffeine and some early financial arrangements involving Parsley's credit card that we're still not legally permitted to discuss!!! MOL
Amber, meanwhile, knew exactly what had happened at Muskham. She gave Thriftee full membership to the Mewton-Clawson Library and even invited her to Book Club.
Thriftee still has the library card. She's never used it, and she's never been to Book Club.
Make of that what mew will.
These days, when Thriftee isn't working at The Quarter Moon, mew'll most likely find her at home on Hag Lane with her nose in a book, battling something in the garden, or privately tutoring local kittens who need a little extra help with their schoolwork.
And there may be one particular tree in that garden with a rather special story behind it...
But more about that later.
This week, Smooch is heading behind the bar, and then down Hag Lane, to discover what really makes Thriftee Manx tick.
Will he discover that Aurora has completely misunderstood her?
Will Thriftee finally smile?
And will anypawdy be brave enough to mention Amber's Book Club?
Probably not.
MOL!
MEET THRIFTEE MANX ~ BARMAID, BOOKWORM AND KEEPER OF THE TILL
If Hamish McClaw is the landlord of The Quarter Moon, Thriftee Manx is the cat who actually knows where everything is.
Need another barrel brought up?
Thriftee knows.
Can't find the cribbage board?
Thriftee knows.
Who's running a tab that has become alarmingly optimistic?
Thriftee definitely knows.
She works six days a week behind the bar and runs her end of The Quarter Moon with quiet, ruthless efficiency. Pints are properly poured, glasses are spotless, the till balances, and absolutely nopawdy gets away with saying, “Put it on Hamish's tab.”
Not even Hamish. Especially not Hamish!!! MOL
Thriftee isn't much of a chatterer behind the bar, which hasn't stopped half of Mewton-Clawson telling her their business.
This is partly because she's an excellent listener, and partly because cats become remarkably indiscreet after their third Catnip Beer or a wee dram of whisskee.
Thriftee hears everything.
She knows who's fallen out with whom, who's suddenly ordering drinks for two, who's avoiding somepawdy, who's spent suspiciously long talking to somepawdy else's husband, and precisely which village resident hasn't paid for their Fish & Chip Night takeaway from three Wednesdays ago.
Does she gossip?
Absolutely not.
Does she remember?
YEP! Every. Single. Detail.
This may be considerably more dangerous. Her greatest challenge, however, isn't the till, the regulars or even Friday-night closing time.
It's Amber.
Thriftee has developed a specific expression reserved for the moment Amber approaches the bar and begins a sentence with:
"I was thinking..."
According to Thriftee, nothing financially responsible or structurally safe has ever followed those three words.
Amber considers this grossly unfair. We checked the available evidence.
We declined to comment!!! MOL
There are rules at Thriftee's bar.
No paws on the counter.
No pinching someone else's chips.
No moving the furniture without asking.
No trying to convince her that a quadruple measure is technically a single drink because it's in one glass.
And NO COLLECTING THE COCKTAIL UMBRELLAS.
That last rule was introduced for reasons which should be obvious.
Away from serving drinks, Thriftee is also the cat Hamish relies on when something needs organising properly. Stocktaking, bookings, functions, change for the till, remembering that Cyril Fuddleton specifically requested the table away from the dartboard after the unfortunate incident with his hat...
Thriftee remembers it all.
Hamish calls her indispensable.
Aurora calls her "very sour."
Thriftee calls Aurora... Actually, we're saving that for later.
😹
And although she might spend most evenings surrounded by ale, whisskee, dominoes and increasingly questionable karaoke, there are certain subjects capable of getting Thriftee talking considerably more than usual.
Books are one of them, and gardening is another.
And apparently, if mew happen to be a kitten who's struggling with their schoolwork, mew may discover an entirely different side to Miss Manx.
But that's not the Thriftee most customers see. They see the grey Manx behind the bar, polishing a glass, quietly observing the room and apparently minding her own business.
Which raises an interesting question...
Just how much does Thriftee Manx know about everypawdy in Mewton-Clawson?
Probably far more than is entirely comfortable!!! MOL
What would mew order from Thriftee at the bar?
Thriftee’s Favourite Place: Her Cottage on Hag Lane
This week, Smooch asked Thriftee to tell us about her favourite place in Mewton-Clawson. Given her history, we thought she might choose somewhere involving books. As it turns out, we weren't entirely wrong.
My favourite place?
Home.
I spend six days a week at The Quarter Moon surrounded by chatter, clinking glasses, questionable singing and customers who suddenly become experts on licensing law at closing time.
So when I finish work, I rather enjoy silence.
My cottage sits on Hag Lane, at the other end of Mewton-Clawson from the Nip & Nom road, heading towards Fuskerton Grange. There are only a handful of properties scattered along the half-mile lane, with paddocks between them and woodland behind my garden.
It's quiet. I like quiet.
The cottage belongs to the Snozrazzle sisters. Willie offered it to me at a very reasonable rent when I needed somewhere to live after Muskham-in-the-Marsh Library closed.
It was purrfectly habitable, well, after a bit of cleaning and decorating, sadly the garden was not.
When I arrived, it was an impenetrable tangle of brambles, nettles and wildly overgrown shrubs. I was assured there was once a purrfectly respectable garden underneath it all. Fortunately, at the time I had a considerable amount of frustration requiring somewhere productive to go.
The brambles proved remarkably therapeutic, and I found I was very good at wielding a scythe.
Over the years, I've cleared it, restored the old borders and planted the garden properly. I prefer things with a purpose, but that doesn't mean everything has to be practical. A garden should be meautiful too.
Inside, I have a small library of my own.
It's nothing grand, but the shelves are full, there's a comfortable chair by the window and I can read for several uninterrupted hours without anypawdy asking me for another pint.
I also do some private tutoring from home. Mostly local kittens who need a little extra help with their schoolwork. Some simply need more time, and some need things explained differently.
And occasionally, a kitten has spent so long being told they're not very good at something that they've started believing it. I don't tolerate that sort of nonsense. One particular pupil came to me struggling terribly with reading and writing. He was highly dyslexic, extremely bright and utterly convinced he wasn't.
We worked together for several years, and by the time he finished school, things were very different.
Shortly afterwards, he appeared at my cottage carrying a young magnolia tree. He'd saved his pocket money to buy it as a thank mew. I told him he shouldn't have spent his money on me. He ignored me, and so I planted it.
It's considerably larger now and stands pride of place in the garden, where I can see it from the house.
In spring, when it's covered in flowers, I sometimes take a book outside and sit beneath it.
It's my favourite part of my favourite place.
Thriftee Manx
Hot Gossip from the QUARTER MOON WITH Thriftee ManX
Where the pints are purrfect, the ears are open, and absolutely nothing is forgotten.
A Chat Between Smooch & Thriftee ~ The Things Mew Hear Behind a Bar Edition
Smooch: Thriftee, mew must hear some epic gossip working behind this bar.
Thriftee: I hear things.
Smooch: Such as?
Thriftee: Trevor Whimbleton told Cyril Fuddleton last Thursday that Mildred Snicklet's prize marrow wasn't grown by Mildred.
Smooch: NO!
Thriftee: Apparently Digger grew it.
Smooch: That's scandalous!
Thriftee: It's a vegetable, Smooch.
Smooch: In Mewton-Clawson, that's practically organised crime. Anything else?
Thriftee: Glenda Filcher has been telling everypawdy she's twenty-nine.
Smooch: She told me that last week.
Thriftee: She told me that in 2018.
Smooch: Savage.
Thriftee: Accurate.
Smooch: Mew know, Aurora says mew never smile.
Thriftee: Aurora should concentrate on her pies.
Smooch: So mew do smile?
Thriftee: Occasionally.
Amber: [arriving at the bar] Evening! Quadruple Catnip Spritz, extra fizz, three olives and...
Thriftee: No umbrellas.
Amber: I hadn't finished.
Thriftee: Mew were going to say six umbrellas.
Amber: Five, actually.
Thriftee: Last Friday it was six.
Amber: Mew remembered?
Thriftee: I remember everything.
Smooch: Everything?
Thriftee: Would mew like me to repeat what mew told Fudge after Poker Night three weeks ago?
Smooch: Another pint, please.
Amber: OOOOH! What did he say?
Smooch: Nothing.
Thriftee: Excellent choice.
Amber: I'll buy mew a drink if mew tell me.
Thriftee: Mew still owe me for two Catnip Spritzes from Caturday.
Amber: Put them on Hamish's tab.
Thriftee: No.
Smooch: Mew really do remember everything.
Thriftee: That's why everypawdy should be nicer to the barmaid.
Amber: I adore mew.
Thriftee: Five umbrellas are still five too many.
Smooch: Did mew just nearly smile?
Thriftee: No.
✨ THRIFTEE’S QUOTE OF THE DAY ✨
“Never underestimate a quiet cat, furiends. While everypawdy else is talking, we’re listening… and we remember everything.”
Hoping mew have a furbulous day, and remember to always...
