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N e t a d e l i c a

I recently ate something in a McDonald's cafe. While it was so bland I nearly fell asleep while eating it, I noticed I'd been given a piece of cardboard (no missus, a game card, not my burger; oh, stop, no, don't, please. Etc.). It was a football-related nodule with saloon bar-style swinging door flaps. The highlight of my 'meal', I crept away with it concealed under my hat.

Its magic was revealed to me in one brief and violent, yet strangely erotic struggle with its perforated curtains. And lo! what magic was contained within? The first half of a GBP20,000 prize. How I spun and whirled giddily in my excitement. Could this be true, was I really only the second half of a GBP20,000 curtain away from enough money to buy a small flatlet in an undesirable area?

I ran the 45 miles home, clutching my half-prize to my thigh all the way, looking neither left nor right as I hurdled small children in my path. I showed it to my invisible friend, who coughed and rocked in his chair so much I was concerned for his neighbours. Finally he came to, and, bent double, explained in hushed tones what it was that, was I to want it, I was to do to secure this golden fleece, this Mr Kipling of prizes.

Of course! I had to make contact with the holder of the second piece of the jigsaw. That could only mean one thing: a rambling piece of drivel posted to uk.misc. Absolutely nothing else would do.

So then, my human friends, the course is set. If any of you has the second half of a McDonald's GBP20,000 flap, we are both GBP10,000 the richer.

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