I fly back to central London from Heathrow high on my success.
I give my best performance yet of The ‘king Tree on the train that terminates at Cockfosters.
I know it was good cuz the waterfalls in Leicester Square around the statue of Shaks bounce up and down in rapturous applause.
One of the Tesco bread lorries is there with the picture covering one whole side of the truck of a city made of loaves of bread.
I know what Mister Fox is telling me.
Bread is coming.
Not long to wait now.
How long til I sign the contract, Mr. Fox?