I was thinking One of em could be singing and cheering us on while the other swore like a miner while on all fours. Then swap.
I'd insist on them singing They'd be on the floor, knelt looking up at me, with nothing for warmth but an old Wednesday away shirt from about '95. And they sing for their supper, which would be served straight in their faces by my own little porridge gun.
Yep Did I mention that they'd be doe eyed ? And would whimper about not getting their hair matted, whoops too late I'd be saying
Exactamundo "And you won't even notice the jaw ache, not with your arris stinging the way it will be"