It was the year 1992 and Finland sat alone in a toilet cubicle, sobbing in despair at his humiliation. He buried his head in his hands as the dreaded words replayed themselves over and over in his mind.
"Nul points, nul points, nul points..."
"Why?! Why me?!" He screamed, slamming his fist into the wall. He knew that the others would try to comfort him by saying it was all 'just a song contest', but the fact was that he couldn't stand the shame any longer. Ever since 1961, fate (and his neighbours) had been cruel to him by making him place badly nearly each year. It wasn't fair either that Norway had joined around the same time as him, yet had already won once.
The ultimate under-achiever of Eurovision was what they called him, and it would take a miracle for him to ever win.
He forced himself to stand and tore a piece of toilet paper to wipe his behind, before leaving his cubicle to go the sink. He turned on the tap and eyed his reflection in the mirror, glimpsing the figure
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