Begone, Slaughter and May. Gaze in wonder, Clifford Chance. Tremble in fear, A&O. Yes, pee your pants, Linklaters, and show some respect, Freshfields, and drop to your knees Herbies because it's...
You are all wheezing fat dogs, tongues lolling, drool pouring, willing in spirit but not in body, falling further and further behind the sleek greyhound of Robinson Ravani, London's Leading Solicitors, as it slices away across the field as effortlessly as a sunbeam.
It would be unforgiveably churlish to take the michael out of a firm for a bit of wild puffery. So, onwards to hell. Robinson Ravani needs to devote some of its considerable acumen to finishing its website, which has a few gaps.
However a website with some empty spaces and photos solely of Chinese people and an absence of any working links is small beer to a market leader. With only four solicitors, the firm is used to seeing the odds stacked against it, but nothing has yet prevented Robinson Ravani's continuing, merciless domination of the capital from its office in Forest Gate off the main road round the back of the Anand Pan Centre.
Manchester's leading lawyers salute them.