02/09/2026
Sarah and Tel‑boy only went and got themselves hitched at the The Cliftonville, didn’t they. Lovely gaff, very classy — chandeliers, sea view, the whole kit and caboodle. Tel‑boy strolls in like he owns the place, big grin, suit sharper than a dodgy dealer’s handshake. And Sarah? Cor blimey, she looked a million quid. Not a fiver short, a full million.
Everyone’s clapping, the registrar’s trying to keep it professional, and Tel‑boy’s whispering, “Play it cool, Trig,” even though Trig ain’t there. Then they seal the deal, raise a glass, and Tel‑boy says, “This time next year, sweetheart… we’ll be married millionaires.”
