Phew... Fake news – it gets you every time, doesn't it! Just wonderful to have it confirmed that New Zealand have retained the Rugby World Cup as we all knew they would. Yes, the Webb Ellis Cup is safely back on the mantelpiece for another four long and lovely years.
There I was, on the floor, gnashing the Axminster in frustration and despair after an apparent English monster mash victory over a hapless All Black effort when the call came through.
• Frank Greenall: Look to past to fix future
• Frank Greenall: Try counting what matters
• Frank Greenall: Daring to do something different to solve gang problem…
• Frank Greenall: Tales of whales, trails and fails
"Frank, don't worry," the vaguely familiar voice said. "It's all fake... Relax, the All Blacks won as per normal, and gave those uppity Poms another spanking good rugby lesson."
"Do I know you?" I spluttered through a mouthful of bristly Axminster autumn-leaves-pattern fibres.
"Of course you do, Frankie," came the response. "It's the Don, here – he of infinite and matchless wisdom and incomparably powerful magnetic personality, as I once heard myself described, possibly by myself personally. What I'm saying here is relax - it's all fake."
"The Trump himself – is it really you? And you're saying it's all fake! You mean, we won!"
"You got it, Frankie, and that's from the horse's mouth of the most stable genius the world has ever known. It's the Democrats - they're at it again big-time in porky-pie land."
"But...but.." I whistled through my Axminstery fur ball, "it was all there in the Spark pixelations. We got monstered, and most hurtfully by a team coached by that really annoying little Ozzie Eddie character."
"Frankie, Frankie... It's the algorithms. Those Democrats will stop at nothing. It was all Photoshopped on a Bollywood back lot. When your pixelations showed a Hulk-replica English forward brushing off his AB counterpart like a pesky fly, what was really happening was that the ABs were nonchalantly dotting down under the sticks after yet another scintillating 36-phase build-up."
"But Don, why would the Democrats want to do stuff like that, what's that got to do with us?" I ventured.
"They just want to destabilise the American Way of Life, which you and I know is also the Kiwi Way of Life, don't we, Frankie? Democrat communists like Biden and Sanders and Warren are against everything the Trump Tower stands for – that's how nasty they are. So they'll fake it till they break it – that's their motto, Frankie. They wanted to break Kiwi hearts and spirits with a fake All Blacks wipe-out!"
Suddenly I could feel the leaden pall of grief lifting, like lingering morning dew before a rising summer sun. Of course - it was all fake!
"Donald, I've said some harsh things about you in the past that have cast aspersions on your bigly greatness, your powerful stability and your munificent wisdom. Now I only wish I could eat all my cruel words right this instant if only I could get rid of these scungy carpet fibres.
"But what about the South Africans .... Don't we also have to beat them in the final?"
"Relax Frankie... The Saffers have capitulated. They know they don't stand a dog's chance against your haka heroes, so they've thrown in the white towel of surrender and already retreated back over the Orange River, of which Trump Enterprises owns a controlling share, and in whose specially imported orangey waters I daily bathe to maintain my powerful tan."
"Your heart is big, Mr President. How can we thank you enough!"
"Scientists tell me my heart is bigger and more powerful than even the mighty Kiwi horse Phar Lap's, but still not as big as my powerful brain.
"But word has it a fire wiped out the convention centre where you were going to host the upcoming APEC meeting. Tell Jacinda that if she shifts the venue to my fit-for-purpose Miami golf club, I can not only do it for cost but every delegate will also qualify for a discounted made-in-China 'Make America Great Again' cap!"