There’s a bistro i go to after work. And there’s this other Brit immigrant who goes in there occasionally who’s a Daily Mail type who loves Brexit and hates forrins (doesn’t get the irony). He always wants to talk with me and i fucking hate him but I’m polite. So the people who work there (who I’m on first name terms with) and i have come up with a plan. My work jacket unfortunately has my first name and occupation on it so we’ve agreed that I’ll have to hide my identity. The plan is I’ll pretend my names actually Brian and i got the jacket at a thrift store. Also if he’s in I’ll not sit at my usual table and I’ll wear sunglasses and a false moustache.
The plans name is Operation Cromwell.
ETA: I used to be in the Sealed Knot. Samuel Jones’ Regiment of Foote.