Owen Newitt and Jim Trott are waiting in the Vestry for a meeting to begin.
Owen: Filthy weather!
Jim: No, no, no, no, no, I've known worse.
Owen: Oh yes? When was that then?
Jim: The Great Storm. When the windmill got blown over.
Owen: That wasn't The Great Storm, that was a moderately windy night!
No, the really great storm was... The Great Storm.
Jim: When was that?
Owen: When Dave Batt got decapitated.
Jim: That wasn't the Great Storm!
Owen: Well, it was pretty damn great!
Jim: No, the greatest storm was the one when Old Harold got blown into the quarry.
Owen: Ooh, that! The Great Winds.
Jim: The what?
Owen: The Great Storm — there's got to be rain. And in the Great Winds there was just wind.
Letitia: Nasty night. It reminds me of the Great Storm.
Owen Newitt, Jim: SHUT UP!
And so on, including reminiscences about the Great Snow, the Great Frost of '54, the Great Freeze of '48 — culminating in David Horton: "Well, I'm about the die in the Great Bore of '94."