Having been caught by Fred Vasseur kissing in a secluded corner of the paddock, you felt a palpable tension as you silently followed Fred to his office. Once there, Fred opened the door to his office and beckoned you in. The inside of the office was cluttered with trophies, car plans and various documents. Fred took a seat behind his desk, leaving you standing in front of him, like schoolchildren caught in the act.

“Pull up a chair,” he finally said sharply, pointing to the seats in front of you. You sat down, casting nervous glances around the room. Fred rested his elbows on his desk and clasped his hands together. “So,” he began, his voice full of restrained anger, ”explain to me what you were doing.”