I have honoured the spirit of the bet, Tobes, as you well know.
That it isn't the avatar that Pixie wants is tough luck. I have changed my avatar. The spirit of the bet is honoured. More importantly, for all his crowing and mincing around with a smirk on his face, Pixie now has to go back into his mother's closet under the stairs, naked, and yank on his sausage all alone in the darkness (not an image that I conjured up, but that of a fellow Gooner).
You're not going to start balling your eyes out and threatening to call the cops, too, are you, Tobes?
Raving!

