A barbecue arranged by a boring old twat. No one turns up except his ugly girlfriend. They eat garlic bread at a plastic table, then proceed to drink gin and tonic until they're almost comatose. At which point the boring fat twat plays crap music very loud and dances like a spack. No Pork Scotch Barbecue is complete without the tedious "host" donning a leather cowboy hat, imagining he's a 5 foot 4 Clint Eastwood.
Flonkule: Is The Porky Scotcher at work today?
Mickus: No its not and the Sun's out so you know what that means don't you?
Flonkule: Bollocks! Another Pork Scotch Barbecue!