26. I have defended the honour of my country via the pugilistic arts (at 45 rpm)

As a well-travelled young man, it was unsurprising that I found myself in Munich last night, drinking a stein or two in the company of several thousand lederhosen or dirndl wearing Germans. After many hours of this, the attraction of more buckets of booze paled. Seeking excitement, I strode outside the beer hall, and soon found myself outside the Teufelsrad. For those of you without a smattering of German, that particular compound noun is the 'Devil's Wheel'; inside the tent is a large spinning wooden disc. At intervals, the cry for new victims goes up, and a bundle of lederhosen-clad drunks will dive onto the disc, and try to hang on until the wonders of centrifugal force send them flying off into the barriers around the wheel.
Anybody lucky enough to stay on for more than a minute or two is bounced off by a red and green medicine ball, or lassooed by a couple of carnival lads.
So much, so civilised. However, when I strode onto the wheel to have a go, I was presented with a pair of boxing gloves instead, and when the wheel was set going, I found that instead of being at the base of a pile of sweaty Germans, I was up against a drunk bloke with a lived-in face, who was trying to punch my head off. "Is fun fight" yelled one of the carnies. Well, as much fun as it can be with a belly full of beer, the room spinning even more than normal, and some bloke smacking you in the chops. After being floored three times (and taking him down once) I figured enough was enough, and retired from the conflict. However, it remains an indisputable truth that I have been to a different country, stood on a spinning floor, and traded blows with Johnny Foreigner. Have you done the same? I doubt it.