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Grasping son slouched off with father’s money. He moved rapidly away, and then danced and quaffed with abandon. Folding, jangling cash ran out.

Famine crept in. Bowel spasmed noisily. Pigs troughed with élan; boy glanced and salivated. Thoughts tumbled through his mind and he stood up and walked decisively.

Trudging home, he was seen by Father, who ran and ran until he reached his son. Vast hugs and kissing followed, as he put a ring on his finger, buttoned up a coat, buckled up his shoes, slaughtered the calf and threw a party. Boogie nights ensued.

Father waved his cup of wine, arms in the air. ‘My son was lying cold and dead; now he is living to the full!’