davywavy | Montgomery the mystery cat.

Long-term readers might have noticed that

ukmonty and I have an ongoing rivalry over who will pay for the drinks when we go out. This occasionally manifests itself in a certain amount of (entirely affectionate, oh yes) ribbing.

With apologies to Old Possum.

Montgomery’s a rascal chap: he always likes a jar
For he's the master criminal who can defy the bar.
He's the bafflement of maitre d’s, the barkeepers despair:
For when they tot up what is owed — Montgomery's not there!

Montgomery, Montgomery, there's no-one like Montgomery,
He's broken every medical law, he breaks the law of specific gravity.
His powers of inbibation would make a Scotsman stare,
And when it comes to closing time - Montgomery's not there!
You may seek him in the wine cellar, you may look behind the till
But I tell you once and once again, he’s left you with the bill!

Montgomery, Montgomery, there's no one like Montgomery,
For he's a fiend in human shape, a monster of aplomb-ery.
You may meet him in a low dive, or in bars beyond compare
But when a bill’s delivered, then Montgomery's not there!

He's outwardly respectable. (They say he cheats at cards.)
He drinks his wine by bottles, and sups his ale by yards
And when the whisky’s tippled, or the vintage Warre’s is sunk,
Or when the Port is missing, and all the Madeira drunk,
And your collection drunk and gone, your cellar past repair
Ay, there's the wonder of the thing! Montgomery's not there!