No one would have believed, in the last months of Lord Justice Fauntleroy's summing up, that Mike Tyson's right thigh was being watched from a Portakabin near Charnock Richard services.

No one could have dreamed that National Service would be reintroduced.

Few people even considered the inevitability of being consumed by a custard beast.

And yet, across the Bering Strait, minds immeasurably more hip and trendy than ours, regarded a pair of Levi's 501s with at least two eyes.

And slowly and surely, they contracted foot and mouth disease.

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