A barfly from years back pays a visit. Alas, since his departure his favourite green cans have disappeared, and he's had to resort to drinking red ones.
Uncle Obby gets to parade his new shirt. He seems happy that he is the only one at the pub with this pattern. I'm sure that in a week or too there will be a few copycats.
Achieved her eigthteenth year, so she doesn't have to linger in the lounge anymore. Now she can drink schooners with Pooley in the Barflies den without fear of the law.