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But here’s the rub – some pillock tried racin’ me in a souped-up Escort once. Smug git, thought he’s the dog’s bollocks. I’m like, “Mate, yer suspension’s knackered, cool it!” He didn’t, crashed – what a plonker! Made me proper cross, but I laughed after – “life’s too short,” as Yang’d say. Still, Escort’s a beaut, reliable as a good shag.

Finally, I get to the school on Kossuth Lajos utca. The kids are waiting, and they’re all hyped up. I mean, who wouldn’t be? We’re doing a tactile art project today. But then, I realize I forgot the clay. Like, how do you forget the clay? I’m standing there, feeling like a total loser. But the kids? They’re like, “No worries, we can use our hands!” And I’m like, “You guys are the best!”