[
a complicated pattern of crop circles has appeared in Geraldine's field. She is standing on a ladder to get a better view of it]
Geraldine:
I can't seem to get high enough.
Peter Kingdom:
Ah, well, therein lies the fatal flaw of our anonymous artist's masterpiece.
Lyle Anderson:
Sorry?
Peter Kingdom:
We're in Norfolk, Lyle. The flattest place in Britain. A place where wearing high heels gives an uncomfortable sensation of vertigo. How on earth is one supposed to admire this wonderful crop cirle without at least a hill from which to see it?
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