What happened that steamy February evening, Old Git?

As he told me his sad story about his miserable afternoon at Selhurst Park and his subsequent Internet savaging, I could see the sadness that burned deep in his eyes.

Putting an arm around his shoulders (not in a gay way, obviously), I said, "You can tell me, Peter. Come on." He just said, "He called himself Old Git, but he was so young and handsome. He came on like a dream, just seventeen, lips like ... and then ..."

He broke down in tears, horribly, like a Wolves fan who can't find his "You've Let Us Down Again" banner. It was several minutes before the conversation resumed, and I knew then that you had done something awful, probably with Skinner.

It was then that Thorne became an object not of hatred but of pity in my eyes.

Posted By: Ottosson Foxtrot, Oct 17, 23:50:11