Cardiology outpatients, some time in 1974. The consultant, now long gone to his reward, is an extremely eminent Harley Street cardiologist, pinstripe, bow tie, the works. The patient is a young lad with a heart condition. He is accompanied by his father, an artisan with a pronounced sarf Lunnun accent.

Consultant: Now, tell me my good man, what’s the young chappie’s name?

Father: Jensen, boss.

Consultant: Jensen, eh. That’s a most unusual name. How did you come by it?

Father: Well, yer see guv, the missus and me we like cars, and a Jensen’s a fantastic machine, so that’s what we called im.

Consultant: Oh, I see. That’s rather good. Pause. I must say, it’s as well you don’t like Rovers. Haw, haw, haw.