Poor old Henry Irving buzzes in for a quick visit to pick up some stuff for an event they're having at Sheep City. He's particularly frazzled after having spent all morning in a Recreation & Culture Trust Management Team meeting (they seem to have stopped being SPLAT, I seem to have missed that one).
"My God. Given the choice between spending a day talking management bullshit with librarians and ten minutes with people from the sports centres, I'd take the librarians every time. Utter, utter shite. They keep banging on about addressing the needs of the customers and being customer-oriented and all that bullshit, all the time making damned sure that they don't go anywhere near anyone or anything actually providing a service to the poor bloody public. What a bunch of tossers!"
"Are they doing the numbers?"
"I'll say. And they've half an eye on getting the council to move the Library Service into the Trust."
"We weren't good enough for them before. I dare say we're good enough now that the golf club's made yet another big hole in the budget. I am right in thinking that the golf club's in the red again?"
"I couldn't possibly comment."
"It was the pavillion last year. An 'accounting anomaly' the year before. What's this year's?"
"I could't possibly comment."
"I'll bet it's half a million."
"I'll have to go now. Have fun."
That's all we need: getting manœuvered into becoming the financial milch-cows for the council's crappy leisure services again, just when we're finally recovered from years of that nonsense.