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Returning from a very enjoyable lunch with friends, just as we turned down the vennel that leads to our front door, I overheard a gaggle of youngsters behind us, who seemed to be delivering the local paper door to door:
Boy (assertively): Gordon Brown. Gordon - Gordon...I don't know why I find this so very diverting (I don't think it's just the excellence of the lunch).
Girl (plaintive): I trapped my fingers in a letter box.
Other girl: Oh, that mega-hurts!