ABSTRACT
The scene is the vast arena of Wembley. At first sight there appear to be some hundred thousand spectators, but it becomes clear that there are very few people, but an enormous host of animals of every shape and kind. Just near one entry is a small group of men in what Bion, Myself and their party take to be film actors in the uniform of legionnaires of the Roman Army. A cup final supporter, paper streamers and all, approaches one of the motionless figures and addresses him. SUPPORTER
Wotcher chum! Wot's yer regiment?
LEGIONARYLegion Vicesima Valeria Victrix.
SUPPORTER in feigned fearLor'! Selling booze—wot's yer line?
A NEIGHBOUR shouts acrossAsk 'im if 'e's got some beer, chum!
