...gurgled one Ms TheBoat, as she propped one foot on a too-high chair, revealing an inordinate amount of leg to the enraptured audience of a howling dog as she hopped ungainly on the other foot whilst hacking away at gee-tarr strings with one hand and reaching for the astonishingly-talent-inducing goblet of goldfishmango-infused wine with the other.

"Yesh, you ARRRRRRRRRRRRRE!" bellowed the Greek-Brandy-Wielding Geeeee-Tarrr-Teacher-Extrooooordinaire Redleader-Sir.

"See! Seeeeeeeeee! THIS is what I have to put up with, Row!" cried the Roooby-Whirling-Dervish-of-the-Dancefloor-Choo.

And the dog howled and the teenager dragged yet another pillow over his sobbing head and the cat burrowed ever-deeper into his nip and the neighbours pleaded with the police estate agents for salvation and the whole of the Wirral Peninsular lifted up their voices and wept as one as the house rocked in mental anguish as RTB learnt how to play and instantly forget the guitar.

Eurovision. Who needs it?