Fortytwo grounds

I guess we should try and explain what we’re doing here.

Good idea.

Um…actually, do you want to take this one?  It was your idea in the first place, wasn’t it?

Was it?

Yeah…I’m sure it was.

Er, no.  I think I remember it quite clearly being your idea.

Really?

Definitely.  Don’t you remember?  We were in that pub on chambers street, the one that used to be the jazz bar before the fire…

Yeah?

…and you were talking about how it would be cool to go around all 42 senior football grounds in Scotland, collecting photos and programmes from all of them…

Did i?

…and that we could make a diary sort of thing about it all and keep it as a scrapbook…

mmm?

…and maybe publish it as a book or blog of some sort so that everyone could see what charming, witty fellows we are.  Remember?

Do you know I think I do.  You’re right, it was all my idea.

You’re very welcome.

Tee hee…Do you see what I did there?

What’s that?

I just tricked you into doing the boring explanatory bit while I got to sit back looking all clever and smug.

Ah. Right.

Tee hee.

Is that all I am to you, then?  Nothing but a mouthpiece? Nothing but a plot device?

That’s right, you are Rupert Giles to my Buffy Summers.

Hmmm

Data to my Pickard.

I see.

Kryten to my Lister.

Are you going to…

Cagney to my Lacey

…keep this up for much longer?

No.  I’m finished now.

Thank you.