Would you stick it in your lawnmower and head for the sunset for one last blast across The Green?
Would you store it in a safe place and bring it out in a gold decanter on special occasions only, so that you and your friends could have a sniff and remind yourselves of the way it was every once in a while?
Would you gather all your mates around and set fire to it ceremoniously in your back garden, then cook something pork-based on it – and wonder why everything tastes of petrol?
Or would you just pour it down the drain and give yourself a quiet pat on the back, knowing that you have ridded the world of its last nasty gallon of petrol, not realising that you have also just lobbed a whole load of highly desirable chemicals into the water system?
Me? I’d stick my last fantasy gallon into the tank of my bright red fantasy Ferrari F40 and see just how fast it could go on the M23. And if I got stopped, well, it wouldn’t matter, would it? Because who needs a licence when all the petrol is gone?