We are going to beat Brighton so bad, their fans, their coaches, their players, their catering staff, their toilet attendants and all their families will wish they had never been born.

They will form a guard of honour as they applaud us off the pitch whilst having spontaneous repeated orgasms at the memory of our performance, before killing themselves by asphyxiation tonight as they each try to unsuccessfully replicate the glorious orgasms from earlier in the day.