EXTRACT: I caught a fish once. Camping one year. (Whispers) I had an accomplice. Donald. It was swimming lamely, round and round in the shallows. It must have been sick. Donald was just a little boy. But curious. Curious enough to do what I told him. So he picked up the fish – not me – I wouldn’t do it – I said, ‘Pick up the fish Donald’. And he did. ‘I’ve got it, I’ve got it’, he laughed. ‘Not much of an achievement’, I said. ‘It was half-dead when you picked it up’. I never let Donald enjoy anything.