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A taste of the Olympic fat-cats

Astragal found himself at a most peculiar event this week. A briefing on the Olympic games gave cause to place oneself among a baying mass of contractors. All wanted a piece of the Olympic pie, and one would be forgiven for thinking most had eaten it all already. For the most part, the day was spent sitting behind three of this type. The first had a head so large one feared being struck by an orbiting moon. The second had an uncanny resemblance to a Melton Mowbray pork pie – he was ...

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