I am wandering in the vicinity of the Merrylee Shops (Ashmore Road, Glasgow), when I happen on the mansion - set in plentiful, verdant grounds - of Michael Moore. I know it is his, because I spot the bearded liberal in the garden, bizarrely staring into his own front window, like a prowler.
I shout over to him, for I enjoyed Bowling for Columbine, and I would like to talk to its charismatic authour. He scoots over, and suggests that we go for a coffee.
We go for a coffee, in a non-existant room next to the newsagent's. I ask him about his life, and he tells me that he once (many years ago) had a seat in parliament. A flashback appears before my eyes of Mr. Moore riding around in a sort-of wheeled Sedan chair, wearing one of Mussolini's hats.
The flashback ends, and I thank Mr. Moore for being a thoroughly interesting man.
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