Armando was the only Catholic in Pitside. He did not actually live in the village but spent so much time there that he might as well. Armando owned the Golden Fry fish and chip shop. As it was the one and only fast food shop in the village he made an extremely good living from it. This made it all worthwhile. It compensated for the barrage of comments made by customers every time Celtic lost a football match. Armando had noticed over the years just how much business increased at dinner time on a Saturday if Celtic had lost their afternoon match. Whenever Rangers beat Celtic the shop was literally queued out of the door. The comments were never aggressive and Armando did not feel threatened but they were relentless. It did, however, pay for an annual six week holiday back home in the village of Barga in Tuscany. It had also helped Armando build up a tidy little nest egg for the future. Armando considered himself lucky. He had a number of friends who had left the chip shop business in recent years. The growth of fast food chains had hit a lot of them hard and there just wasn’t the same money in it any more.
Pitside, however, was too small to ever attract a McDonalds or KFC and Armando knew he could deep fat fry for as long as he chose to. Armando planned to work until he was 55 and then retire to Italy. His son was not going to go into the business. He worked for a bank in Edinburgh and had no intention of swapping that for a Pitside Chippy. Armando intended to rent out the shop and had a young cousin who had expressed an interest. He only had two years left to go and that helped keep him going, that and the constant innovation. A few years ago, deep fried pizza seemed like the limit of where you could go. Then a newspaper reported a chip shop in Glasgow that covered mars bars in batter and deep fried them. Soon Armando starting getting requests for them. He thought it would be a craze that died down after a while, but they were still as popular as ever and he had now put a mars bar supper, deep fried mars bar and chips, on his menu board. Another favourite was a chip supper, chips with chips. In other words a big bag of chips, but Armando thought a chip supper sounded better. He also did deep fried pickled onions. Cover pretty much anything with batter, deep fry it and it would sell.
Kenny and Hugh entered the shop, drenched by the rain. Neither one with a jacket on.
“What can I get you lads,” asked Armando.
They shook themselves down like a couple of dogs coming out of a pond.
“I’ll have a chip supper, a steak pie supper and a half sausage supper,” said Kenny.
“What are you after tonight Shagger?”
“What’s new?” asked Hugh.
Armando turned and looked at the shelves. He turned back to face Hugh. “How about a Curly Wurly Supper?”
“A Curly Wurly supper! Nice one. Think I’ll stick to fish and chips though.”
“Fair enough,” said Armando. Hugh never went for any of Armando’s specials. He always ordered fish and chips but liked to challenge Armando to tempt him with something new.”
“When are you off to Italy then Armando,” asked Hugh.
“Not till July.”
“Must be nice getting away from here,” said Hugh as he continued to shake the rain from hair.
“It’s good to get a break.”
After they’d been served and left the shop, Armando took down a Curly Wurly from the shelves and opened it. He turned it over several times examining it. The lattice shape of chocolate covered toffee would hold the batter well. It could work. He dipped it in the batter mix and brought it out. Yes, it would definitely work. Armando dropped the Curly Wurly into the deep fat fryer and waited for it to turn golden brown.
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