"Afternoon Spuds. What brings you to my field this sunny day? I've got two more weeks at grass before I start walking out, you know."

"Oh all right than. Lead me in if you must. Rumour has it that there's a crate of un-saleable apples in the tack-room, so I suppose you want to treat me don't you?"

"Why are we going to the car park? What's this then? Is it your new horse-box Spuds? Hey, this looks good. A Bedford TL with power steering, a turbocharged engine and this lovely old-fashioned wooden box with room for 3 of us. Nice. Are you going to get one of those green sun shields across the windscreen saying Spuds and Branston? No, perhaps not."

"What. You want me to walk in there? Well, that's easy; of course I'll do it. Look, you just put one foot on the ramp; test it for strength, then walk up and in. Nose to the wall, shimmy my bum across, and there you are. Is that all I have to do to earn my carrot?"

"That's it, just push the partition door closed and latch it. Then I just flatten my ears in this rather attractive 'El burro' look, and I can poke my head across into the next compartment. I like it. Wait a moment. (Sounds of straining followed by a beatific smile.) That's it Spuds. Christened it handsomely. 20 seconds-a record!"

"Spuds. SPUDS. Why are you red in the face and dancing on the spot in this heat? You should take it easy old chap. Lead me back to my field now please; I've done enough for the day."