It tells the story of three young Bristol boys, friends since primary school, who enlist in the army to escape the banality and tick-tock drudgery of civilian life. Arthur has been driving cars off the container ships at Portbury docks: ‘… parking them in perfect lines, like headstones in a cemetery… Every day. Every week. Every month.’ Geraint – inevitably known as Taff – has been working as an apprentice, ‘on crap pay to a St Paul’s plumber’, and he is hungry for something different . . . I left the theatre feeling deeply grateful that neither of my boys followed the path taken by Arthur and his friends. Pink Mist is unmissable.