Linda, as you know, the incontinent human pyramid (or the wee of death) is the climax of the Purple Helmet Bicycle Display Team's display. Much more impressive than those so-called Red Arrows idiots, who have never been able to do their "turn" indoors when wet. And although lacking the colour of the smoke generators attached to Hawk Trainers, you can often see an impressive trail of steam as the Purple Helmets wobble past. The musical bit is revelation. Skipjack and I can play kazoos; perhaps we can persuade Mick to blow hard on an alpine horn whilst aloft on two sets of moist, manly shoulders. He could be naked except for a pair of tight rubber pants with the absorbant wadding poking out of the seams. And of course, resplendant in his shiny purple helmet. I'll speak to him on Sunday, but as you know, he is always up for anything.