I'm sure we had a thread about this before, but I can't find it.

Anyway, last night I had a dream in which I was standing in a field crowded with people, all of whom were staring up at an under-construction skyscraper which was already so tall that it made you feel queasy just to look at it.

Standing on a concrete slab suspended precariously from a crane at the very top of the structure was our own Ton Ton aka Kris. What had happened was that this skyscraper was a money-making venture launched by the Premier League, built partly on playing fields, causing much controversy... but Kris had somehow managed to broker a deal whereby once the profits for the Prem had exceeded £650 million, and the profits for assorted other investors had exceeded £600 million, the Prem would start pouring £50 million of additional profits into grass-roots football. Kris was addressing a previously-sceptical crowd from the precarious concrete slab to announce that the moment had arrived, and the money was about to come through.

Oh, and throughout his speech, he kept throwing white towels into the crowd, like Elvis.

Anyway, at the climax of his speech, Kris suddenly jumped. There was a horrible moment when, as he plunged, it became clear that whatever was trailing behind him (one assumed it was a parachute) wasn't going to open. He fell into the crowd with a thump, and Purves Grundy, who was watching proceedings with me, said "Fucking hell, he's dead!"

But it turned out that he'd landed on a huge inflatable crash mat (and the thing trailing behind him was just another of those white towels), and he stood up and waved, to mass cheers.

Purves said he might try making a speech like that when he's nearing completion of the treehouse he'd promised to build for the Junior Grundies.

"Friends, Romanians, countrymen..." I quipped.

Then the dream kind of fizzled out.