Scientology had organised a £150-a head dinner at the Institute of Directors premises in Pall Mall to raise funds for a new "Celebrity Centre". Since they have an adequate building under that name in West London already (aka "The Tomb of the Unknown Celebrity"), it was clearly just another attempt to gouge money out of their victims. Three suppressives turned up outside the august portals of the IOD and leafletted the incoming trickle. The invitations stated 7:30 for 8, so we were there from 7 to 8. Since the IOD hires its premises out for all kinds of functions, it was hard to estimate how many people were there for the Scientology bash, and how many for other functions. My guess would be somewhere between 50-100. But absolutely no 'celebrities'. Perhaps if Scientology builds a better Centre they will come.

A few of the people going in took our leaflets, two made rude gestures. Some were hustled in and told not to have anything to do with us, and I had a long chat with a man who had done Scientology courses and said that he thought they might be doing some good, though he left the building before 8. Another visitor to the IOD was a bank official who was very insistent that Scientology were crooks and told us about the time they had tried to open an account with a pile of gold bars. We tended to concentrate on people who looked as if they were dressed up to attend a formal dinner, but Pall Mall is full of clubs and most of the diners turned out to be headed elsewhere., but quite keen to share our condemnation of Scientology. One chap looked to be wearing a white bow- tie under his scarf, but on stopping, turned out to be wearing a dog-collar and was very vehement in his condemnation of the Scientology "liars" and told us that we had made his evening, before wandering down Pall Mall towards his club.

We had a good time, the Scientology officials (judging by their scowls, not in the same league as a death-stare) didn't. and then we repaired to a nearby hostelry.

The evening started out on a good note, as two of us travelled into London by train together, and found ourselves standing next to a large green plastic bowl, about 18 inches in diameter, and two foot deep, mounted on wheels, with a chipboard lid screwed down on top. When the owner moved over to it, we asked him what was in there. I jokingly suggested an anaconda, and the guy unscrewed the top and revealed a beautiful 11-foot-long Burmese Python called Ben coiled up on top of two hot-water bottles. So now we know a lot more about the care and feeding of pythons than you might have imagined, and the Scientologists had suppressives raining on their parade.