This is Tim, Head Honcho of Station 5b.
I was on the racetrack the other day and he looms into view with his trolley loaded with instruments of torture and degradation.
“Let’s have look at the plasters” he says.
“Ah” with discernible pleasure “it’s soaked through”
Rips off the bandage covering the holes where the drainage tubes were (and which are still exuding gunge in not inconsiderable quantities) and goes all lyrical:
“Blut und Eiter stimmt uns heiter”
Rough translation: Blood and pus gives me a buzz
Cleans it up, whacks on a new bandage – I’m still hanging there in my crutches, remember – and sends me on my way.
Pretty much like a Formula 1 pit-stop, really……..
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