Been stewing on this for twenty years. Hot summer day in north London and I was having a pint in a small pub waiting for my mates when Jim Broadbent skulked in. He was wearing a heavy and oiled raincoat which I thought was odd because it was boiling and he crept like Nosferatu into the bogs without buying a drink. 5 minutes pass and still no sign of Broadbent but a rat comes skittering out of the bogs, fixes me with a look and fucks off. I go into the toilets to see if he is there and nothing. He's too big to have gotten out the window and he didn't leave but the rat did. Nobody believes me but Broadbent turned into a fucking rat.