THE SETTING: A Scottish old-timer (Jeremy Saxton at 65) in Scotland, in a bar, talking to a young man.

Old Jeremy Saxton: Lad, look out there to the field. Do ya see that fence? Look how well it's built. I built that fence stone by stone with me own two hands. I piled it for months. But do they call me Saxton-the-Fence-Builder? No. [gesturing at the bar] Look here at the bar. Do ya see how smooth and just it is? I planed that surface down by me own achin' back. I carved that wood with me own hard labor, for eight days. But do they call me Saxton-the-Bar-builder? No. [pointing out the window] Eh, Laddy, look out to sea. Do ya see that pier that stretches out as far as the eye can see? I built that pier with the sweat off me back. I nailed it board by board. But do they call me Saxton-the-Pier-Builder? No. [looking around nervously, trying to make sure no one is paying attention] But ya fuck one goat...