Tim and I are in London, making our way to Everton football ground (I know) to get an autograph from manager Fabio Cappello (I know).
We climb walls to get in and make our way to the technical area, which is encased in clear plastic. The match is over, and Tim moves in for the kill with a brochure for him to sign, as Fabio stares silently at his players sitting around him. Meanwhile, I creep past and downstairs to put a Simpsons trading card in his jacket pocket for him to find later.
And then I wake up.
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