And just as the voices subdued – for no-one wants to be named by Mr Speaker, although, in truth, all three of the Honourable Members from Beddingshire had indeed been named on occasions which really aren't part of this story, but to which I may return later – sounds of a strange song could be heard from the Gentlemen's toilet: "ooh, eeh, ooh, aah, aah, bing-bang-walla-walla-bing-bang; ooh, eeh, ooh, aah, aah, bing-bang-walla-walla-bing-bang!" and the door flew open and two Right Honourable Members tumbled out, faces red and clothes in some disarray! there was a growl from Sir Wilfred, sufficient to discourage the newcomers too avoid encroaching upon the table he occupied with young Quentin; at which point Toby Tunnock – known to his intimates as Teacake – and Simon Sigismund-Smoot – whose closest friends nicknamed Ripple, for some reason known only to themselves – spotted Timothy, and swung, as one, towards him, quickly zipping up their flies as they encroached on him, while he, instinctively took a step back, only to find himself pressed against the bar, where Flossie asked for their order: "usual for Ripple and me, Flossie, dearest," boomed Toby, "what's your poison, Timmy? you're not a regular habitué of Floozies, are you?" at which point, for the fifth time in as many weeks, Tim wished the floor would open up and swallow him!