Silence.

Complete and utter silence.

A sound level comparable with the few-particles-per-year bleakness of intergalactic space.

You could hear if not a single pin, at least a small group or perhaps four or five pins dropping.

A Silence so profound that it does indeed merit a capital letter.

It only lasts about 5 seconds of course, and is immediately followed by uproarious laughter.

This is the reaction on first viewing the proboscis attached to the front of Mat Taberner's head.

For sheer outrageousness, it's perhaps topped only by Christo's wrapping in foil of the Reichstag.

To get an idea of the incongruity of scale, imagine an iceberg turned on its side, attached to a beachball.

In fact, it's a wonder he's ever found a bike helmet to fit him properly, without looking like the dragon mascot on an M&P catalogue.

Of course, when he does manage to get his lid on, he's an irritatingly quick, if occasionally dangerous seeming1< rider.

He can also drink a reasonable quantity of alcoholic beverage, and enjoys a curry, so that makes him "OK" in my book.

[1] "dangerous" is definately among the words that spring to mind when you see Mat pulling a 40mph wheelie on your Bandit 1200, along the main street of a country town, before overtaking a train2 signalling to turn right, against a flow of oncoming traffic!
[2] well, one of those road train things for children and tourists.