Hot pizzas, empty room

When Farmer Oak smiled, the corners of his mouth spread till they were within an unimportant distance of his ears, his eyes were reduced to chinks, and diverging wrinkles appeared round them, extending upon his countenance like the rays in a rudimentary sketch of the rising sun.

The same could not be said for the Domino's delivery driver when Henry eventually made it clear that he needed an actual, printed receipt.

The Edinburgh Java User Group was not busy tonight. Maybe it was the call of the bright evening sunshine, but they did not appear in droves to play Java Countdown. Those that did come managed to eat most of the pizza and drink all the 'good' beer - BrewDog. And they had fun.