"One Life Left" (www.onelifeleft.com)

Weekly UK radio show about videogames. Fab title, eh? Hosted by two guys and a gal – Ste, Robert and Ann. Clubhouse atmosphere. Lively and irreverent. No party line. Computer music. Special guests. Industry scuttlebutt. Politics. Ponies. Poetry. 50MB+ download. Worth it.


Listening: See above.

Vegetable matters

Herbivorous Japanophiles could do worse than Sushi Rio, located in Liverpool St, Sidders, where mere hours ago I was sailing "ships" laden with okra and edamame down my gullet. The former were garnished with an unidentified pink sauce, the latter with cherry tomatoes and mayo. I specially ordered a mushroom and tofu fluffy omelet that had me scraping the pan clean (not an easy task using chopsticks).


Listening: "Doctor Who - The Roof Of The World" by Adrian Rigelsford (Big Finish audiobook #59. Doc Five, Peri and Erimem (Ancient Egyptian royalty) travel to 1917 Tibet for a colonial cricket match. Dark clouds gather...and attack!)

"Analysing Sarah Jane"

Was how the Doctor Who Club of Australia advertised the meeting I attended yesterday at Drummoyne RSL (seemingly about to be abandoned for its Burwood counterpart). I deliberately arrived late because I knew the organisers would commence with older material and, frankly, Mr Shankly, I was only interested in seeing fresh episodes of the "The Sarah Jane Adventures". This turned out to be the right call. Waltzing in during lunch meant not having to rewatch "T/S/J/A" pilot "Invasion Of The Bane" (it was enjoyable the *first* time) or sit through the horrific "K-9 And Company", a 1981 Elisabeth Sladen vehicle that misfired on all cylinders.

Despite recurring technical difficulties, quizzes that degenerated into farce due to the contestants being too evenly matched to separate (requiring committee members to invent tie-breaker questions on the spot!), and the unfortunate positioning of the merchandise table (ever the focal point for chatterboxes) at the rear of the screening room, the DWCA did a fine job of bringing demanding sods like myself up to date with the exploits of SJ and her teen sidekicks Luke, Maria and Clyde.

[spoilerettes]

In the periods when the lights were dimmed and the rowdies shushed, we were treated to the first six episodes of the series, which took the form of three two-parters, viz. "Revenge Of The Slitheen" (the fraudulent, flatulent, hunt-loving "Who" villains return at the kids' high school), "Eye Of The Gorgon" (sinister nuns and the Greek myth is explained :-)) and "Warriors Of Kudlak" (Orson Scott Card's "Ender's Game" on a smaller scale). This sextet only confirmed what I'd concluded after watching "Bane": "The Sarah Jane Adventures" is a zippier, more brightly coloured version of "Doctor Who" that retains its soapie smarts.

The remark was made by one of my fellow attendees that the show really needs to break out of the alien-invasion-of-the-week mould. That's a fair point. Judging by the preview, the next two-parter, "Whatever Happened To Sarah Jane?" (nice pun, Gareth Roberts), may bring things down to a personal level.

Sources say the ABC will broadcast "T/S/J/A" in 2008.


Reading: "Troy: Fall Of Kings" by David and Stella Gemmell. (The novel DG was working on when he succumbed to heart disease, since completed by his wife. How apt the title - he was peerless.)

Listening: "Doctor Who - The Harvest" by Dan Abnett (Big Finish audiobook #58. Doc Seven, Ace and new companion Hex investigate a secret experiment in a London hospital in 2021.)

Book review: "Blind Faith" by Ben Elton (2007)

It's the future. Rising sea levels have reduced London to an archipelago. The Temple has risen to power by convincing the populace the flood was a punishment from God. Holy law is explained in terms of empty self-empowerment slogans and mystic mumbo jumbo, enforced with an Inquisition-like zeal and Big Brother surveillance. Science is outlawed. Fiction is forbidden – only celebrity gossip, reality TV and Internet sites such as FaceSpace are acceptable. Citizens are expected to make public every aspect of their lives – including video footage of their lovemaking. There are no secrets.

Or are there? Mild-mannered government computer programer Trafford Sewell quite likes the idea of a bit of privacy and has begun to openly question the contradictions around him. Maybe he can find others who feel the same way. Maybe they can do something about it.

Final word: A well-sustained mixture of "1984", "Fahrenheit 451" and the worst aspects of modern society multiplied beyond our control.

Back to the "Future Sight"

The theme decks for the "Future Sight" expansion had been magically gathering dust on my Magic: The Gathering shelf. I'd put 2-3 hours into playtesting them, but was in no rush to spend the additional 5-6 required to finish the job. Then the "Lorwyn" set, with its sumptuous illos and radical Planeswalker cards, was released. Having learnt from Pink Floyd's "The Wall" that you can't have any pudding if you don't eat your meat, I knew I wouldn't allow myself to purchase the sweet new expansion until I'd made proper use of the previous one.

I slowly, carefully pitted deck against deck as...Marillion's mature and moving "Somewhere Else" (their 14th album!) lit up the CD player...a televised poker tourney came and went..and a string of "Star Trek" episodes on the SciFi Channel had me warming to that franchise again ("Deep Space Nine" is still its creative zenith).

I won't go into the rules additions for "Future Shock" as they're either one-word terms for existing concepts (eg. non-flyers who can block flyers now have "reach") or variations on a theme (eg. "fateseal" cards let you "scry" your opponent's library). Better I just print the results, so you know which theme deck has the greatest claim on your cash.

1ST: "Future Shock" (G/R versatile fatties and direct damage) - 3 matches, 6 games
2ND: "Rebels Unite" (B/W weenie swarm (using the rebel search ability) and creature control) - 2 matches, 6 games
3RD: "Suspended Sentence" (B/U bounce, critter kill, discard and morphing) - 1 match, 3 games
4TH: "Fate Blaster" (U/R deck searching, d/d, evasion creatures) - 0 matches, 3 games

Forever gold!

I want to be forever gold! Newcastle United Jets 2 - Melbourne (ahem) Victory 0. The end of a satisfying day in which I...

...caught the "Japanese Pottery: The Rising Generation From Traditional Japanese Kilns" exhibition before it shifted to Perth (from the Japan Foundation Library, Chifley Plaza, at the business end of town)...

...and had dinner with my sister AK (who cooked a trio of tasty dishes), bro'-in-law VK (who joined me in sampling Cantina beer from El Salvador) and niece CK (who I introduced to the Mr Potato Head toy).

Life is good.

Two in a row

Apart from ESPN's jarring, ultra-repetitive ad breaks, it was a pleasure watching my Indianapolis Colts outplay the fiery Jacksonville Jaguars 29-7 "on the road", taking our W-L to 6-0.

That was last night. Tonight I was at the "Kingdome" (better known as the Entertainment Centre) with PB to see my Sydney Kings account for the struggling Adelaide 36ers by a margin of 100-82.

(For those who don't follow sport, the preceding paragraphs refer to gridiron and basketball, in that order.)

DVD review: "The Darwin Awards" (2006)

The awards of the title – an Internet institution and series of paperbacks – are a dubious honour bestowed annually on people who cause their own deaths in idiotic ways (thereby ensuring they won't pass on their inferior genes). Whether 100% of the cases are true is irrelevant – the point is there are plenty of dummies accidentally doing themselves in and acknowledging the dumbest is a neat idea. But how do you turn it into a movie?

Short answer: with a plot as outlandish as one of the famous last deeds it celebrates, likeable leads, memorable cameos and an eclectic, energetic soundtrack.

Long answer: Michael Burrows (Joseph Fiennes) is an ex-criminal profiler whose tendency to faint at the sight of blood lets a poetry-obsessed serial killer escape and gets him sacked from the police. A Darwin Awards fanatic, he convinces an insurance company to let him search for common factors in the cases, so as to identify likely victims of their own stupidity.

Burrows is paired with Siri (Winona Ryder), a kinda jaded, kinda sweet claims assessor. He's also shadowed by a documentary maker (Wilmer Valderrama) who's happy to film every aspect of Michael's life, but refuses to lend assistance, even in emergencies.

Criss-crossing America, the trio encounter situations that will be familiar to DA afficionados – like a greedy office worker crushed beneath a vending machine while trying to pilfer a drink, and an unfulfilled redneck (David Arquette) who makes a bid for TV glory by strapping a rocket to his Chevy. They also run into Adam and Jamie from "Mythbusters" (as army disposal salesmen), all four members of Metallica, and Beat poet Lawrence Ferlinghetti. Songs by everyone from Billy Joel to Judas Priest to the Violent Femmes keep things rockin' along.

Final word: There should be an award for beaut little quirky flicks like this!

[Australian DVD release dates: out now for rental, on sale November 14]

Dental as anything

Saw a dentist for the first time in about 15 years! The visit was meant to be a free service from my health fund, but because I had no patient record they needed to take a bunch of X-rays - and I had to reach into my wallet. The upside: no cavities! "Nice straight teeth," said the doc. Scheduled a second appointment for a fortnight's time to get everything scraped and polished. Then they might not see me again until 2022 :-)


Reading:
* "Happyslapped By A Jellyfish: The Words Of Karl Pilkington" (Second tome by KP, the comedic savant "discovered" on Ricky Gervais' podcast. This one's a collection of unhappy travel tales that had me guffawing on the bus ride home.)
* "Bleach #21" by Tite Kubo (After the darkly magnificent ending of issue #20, Ichigo and co. are returned to Earth to continue their supernatural war. I was bored with all that Soul Society politics, anyway. Many questions raised.)
* "Blind Faith" by Ben Elton (His latest. I'm only on page 34. The ABC's Monday line-up - "Four Corners", "Media Watch" and "Enough Rope" - made it too easy for this lounge lizard to bask in the glow of the cathode ray tube.)

Four wheels, three courses

The standout for me at the Australian International Motor Show (formerly the Sydney Motor Show) was Ford Performance Vehicles' new limited-edition Cobra GT, a tricked-out V8 sporting the white-with-blue-racing-stripes paintjob that's been turning my head since boyhood and probably always will.

I should say...much as I admire a well-made automobile, I have no plans to own one. Not after the doco "A Crude Awakening" opened my eyes to the global oil situation. And not unless circumstances relocate me to Woop Woop. Were that to happen, funds permitting, I'd opt for a petrol-electric hybrid.

Now consumers are factoring the environment into their choices, it makes financial sense for manufacturers to act more responsibly - or be seen as horribly uncool. Two small-but-hopefully-trend-sparking gestures in this direction that I noticed at the A/I/M/S were on the Suzuki and Mercedes-Benz stands. Purchase a Suzy Grand Vitara and the company will donate some dough towards saving the Tasmanian devil (decimated by disease) and the black rhino (threatened by poachers). Buy a current Merc and the swish seats will be made from the husks of coconuts grown on small, sustainable plantations in Brazil.

On my way to the Motor Show, I lunched at the Meat & Wine Co., also in Darling Harbour, near the IMAX cinema. Don't go there if you want a cheap feed. Do go there if you're prepared to pay extra for steakhouse fare with a South African twist. As usual, I'm gonna tell you exactly what I ate and drank :-)

With an entree of boerewors (beef sausages, polenta and spicy "monkey gland" sauce), I tried a bottle of Knappstein Lager (clean, crisp and appropriately wine-like). My main was lamb cutlets with root vegies, accompanied by a South African Merlot (Guardian Peak). When the waiter asked, "How would you like your lamb?", I was thrown. I'd only ever been given that choice with steak - lamb was either cooked or it wasn't. "Er...medium, please." I tend to go for "old-fashioned" deserts as there's a reason they've survived so long. Hence: apple and rhubarb crumble with custard and, less traditionally, cinnamon ice-cream for the third and final dish. A glass of water and I was fuelled up and ready to spend hours looking at cars.


Reading: "Silver On The Tree" by Susan Cooper (fifth book in the blah blah blah...).

TGIF

Reading: "The Grey King" by Susan Cooper (fourth book in the "D/I/R" sequence).

Suddenly, nothing happened

Well, apart from yours truly adding the My Escape package to my cable subscription. Now I can watch (and record) the one-off program "Rick Stein & The Japanese Ambassador" tomorrow at 8.30pm on The Lifestyle Channel. Hurrah! RS is my all-time fave TV chef/cook, followed by Nigella Lawson, Keith Floyd, the "Two Fat Ladies" (Jennifer Paterson [RIP] and Clarissa Dickson Wright) and Ian "One Fat Gentleman" Hewitson. If I could invite any five people to a dinner party, it would be that lot (minus JP, obviously) - and I'd tell them each to bring a plate!


Reading: "Greenwitch" by Susan Cooper (third book in the "Dark Is Rising" sequence).

A knight's work

The beast called Taksree'tern is slain! I've been promised a reward of 480 gold pieces - or "dollars", to use the parlance of this kingdom.

Economising ahoy!

This arvo, I paid the deposit on a cruise around the islands of Vanuatu (mainly) on P&O's brand-new "superliner", the Pacific Dawn. I won't be setting sail until early 2008, but the balance of the ticket must be paid by mid-December. [Sound of belt tightening]


Reading: "Wonder Woman: The Greatest Stories Ever Told" by William Moulton Marston et al. (A birthday pressie, back in June, from DL.)

Movie review: "Death Proof" (2007)

Stuntman Mike (Kurt Russell) has a cool scar and a cool Chevy and hangs out at a cool bar frequented by sex-sational chicks such as Jungle Julia (Sydney Tamiia Poitier – named after her famous dad). Talking his way into scoring the "Swan Lake" of lapdances, the dude seems like a charmer. But when he gives Pam (a blonde Rose McGowan) a lift home, we discover he's really a snake – and we get a crash course in the concept of "death proof".

Later and elsewhere, psycho Mike plays more road games with a quartet straight from Male Fantasies 101 (Mary Elizabeth Winstead, Rosario Dawson, Zoe Bell and Tracie Thoms). Seriously boneheaded move. Two of the babes are stuntwomen and can handle themselves – and their borrowed muscle car – even better than he can. Maybe this time it'll be Mike who learns a lesson about whether anything can ever really be death proof.

Once half of the "Grindhouse" double bill with Robert Rodriguez's "Planet Terror", "Death Proof" is now sufficiently long, with enough of writer/director/pretend bartender Quentin Tarantino's trademark repartee and holy-crap-my-palms-are-sweating action, to stand on its lonesome. All the deliberate errors to make it resemble a drive-in nasty from the 70s – artefacts, flickers, the sound not syncing, the colour dropping out – are just a film geek bonus.

Final word: Proof Tarantino is da man!

[Australian cinema release date: November 1]

Chocaholism for charity

The National Breast Cancer Foundation gets 10c from Arnott's for every packet of the recently re-released Pink Wish Tim Tams sold. Which means they receive 1.1*c for each "luscious strawberry"-centred choccy biscuit I devour. That doesn't seem like much, so I feel it's my civic duty to consume vast quantities :-)


Reading: "Fables Vol. 2: Animal Farm" by Willingham, Buckingham and Leialoha. (Five-star fantasy!)

If you thought a double knockout was weird...

The Scott Smith/Pete Sell slugfest on "The Ultimate Finale 4" is gladiatorial gold, with two supremely conditioned athletes laughing and high fiveing mid-round as they pound the proverbial outta each other. It also features the most replay-worthy finish to a mixed martial arts bout that mine eyes have seen.

Quarantine: day three - alternate history

What would the world be like if King Philip IV Of France hadn't laid false charges of the vilest heresies against the Knights Templar so he could eradicate the order and seize their wealth to escape his debts?

Would the warrior monks have launched another Crusade on the Holy Land from Malta? Or would the "poor knights of Christ" have concentrated on the financial side of their operation, essentially the first European bank?

The Templars weren't just a blip on the radar of human history, they existed for almost two centuries - longer than this continent has been officially known as Australia.

They had serious military might and colossal wealth, and yet they were obliterated by one king's desperate, murderous greed (and the Pope's complicity). I don't think I'll ever get my grey matter around that.

Quarantine: day two - art!

Dug out a handsome spiralbound sketchbook purchased on a whim and heretofore unused. Covered the first page with an abstract landscape, outlined in black marker and coloured in pencil. Can't, in all honesty, describe my artwork as aesthetically pleasing. Imagine the background to an early "Super Mario" game seen on a poorly tuned telly. At least it was therapeutic :-)

No chance to see

Fans of Douglas Adams and Mark Carwardine's 1990 book* "Last Chance To See" - a world tour of endangered species that I rate above DA's "Hitchhiker's Guide" and "Dirk Gently" fictions - may wish to check their local library for the September 15 issue of "New Scientist". It contains an essay by MC that's effectively a eulogy for one of the "L/C/T/S" subjects: the Yangtze River dolphin. He explains how China failed to save a creature regarded as a "national treasure" and notes other cetaceans that could be swimming toward extinction.

*Also a radio series and, in 1992, released in a deluxe CD-ROM edition.

Nasty little bug

Nobody try to contact me at work as I'm stuck home sick. A sore throat yesterday led to a restless then feversome night. I woke up damp and weak from sweating it out. Now the phlegm factory's in full production. I have zero appetite - all I wanna do is sleep.

iLucked out!

CM's auntie won a black 2GB iPod nano but decided she didn't want it. His cousins own beefier versions, as do CM and AM. So, with astounding generosity, it's been passed to me!

My funky generic MP3 player gave up the machine ghost a while back and I'd been considering this very model. From the packaging to the intuitive Apple Music Store interface, I'm beyond impressed.

The promised concert report - and everything else - is now on hold while I play with my new toy. I've already downloaded Daniel Kitson's podcasts. Hurry up and charge, little iPod :-)

Bury my ears at the Enmore Theatre

Where they were destroyed this evening by the elemental force known as Motorhead.

Sleep, work, then details.

Wave goodbye

Kicked my old Omni DVD player (hacked by BS and I to play all regions) to the kerb in readiness for tomorrow's council clean-up. The unit and remote control had vanished within minutes. Little does Oliver/Olivia Opportunist know but the thing's skippier than a bush kangaroo. I've no need of it now thanks to my Xbox and DVD recorder.

Was equally glad to divest myself of a decrepit NEC microwave that had begun groaning in protest if so much as a coffee cup was placed on its turntable. However, as I didn't fancy reheating leftover pizza or pasta in the oven, this necessitated the purchase of a replacement and therefore a trip to Bondi Junction.

While I'll cheerfully blow $100 on printed matter, I'm something of a penny pincher when it comes to technology - which is why I scrutinised the low-end models at Bing Lee, David Jones, Harvey Norman, Kmart and Myer before making my informed choice: an LG reduced from $129 to $89 at Bingers.

According to a receipt dated 14-08-99, the NEC cost me $169. I find it amazing that I can now get a microwave of the same power/capacity, with more features and finer lines, for almost half the price. Sure, the old one came with a free cookbook - but it's not like I ever used it :-)

[A siesta and perfect Ford-Ford-Ford podium at the Bathurst 1000 later:] Someone prised open the side of my discarded micro, presumably to scavenge a part. Jawas?

Curse you, Jonny Wilkinson!

No sooner had I put a fiver on the Wallabies to win the Rugby World Cup (at odds of 7-1) than England, who'd struggled in their Pool A matches, played their hearts out and nullified our attack to the tune of 12-10. I almost choked on my toasted tuna sandwich. Their dirty dozen points all came from penalties kicked by You-Know-Bloody-Who. Four more years before we can have our revenge for the 2003 final...

[Eight hours later:] By the hoary hosts of Hoggoth! Awoke to the shock news France had eliminated the red-hot favourite All Blacks, 20-18. Part of me thinks we should just hand the Webb Ellis Cup to South Africa right now, but I guess if there have been two major upsets, there could always be a third.

Dinosaurs, etc.

Dealt myself out of tonight's poker game - my energy bar was too low. They won't miss me as there'll still be 7-8 card floppers.

PG and DG stayed over on Friday. We dined at The Viet in Newtown, where I had the lemongrass pork and they ate vegetarian on account of being vegetarians. Back at DorkGeekNerd HQ, we emptied a box of the new Tiramisu Cornetto ice-creams (rubs tummy) and watched the unsettling, acting master class that is "Zodiac" (why all the yellow?).

Regrettably, when P. and D. retired, I overdid it on the Sauvignon blanc and ended up (a) puking in the porcelain, (b) bothering another friend with a 1.30am phone call (lucky he was awake), and (c) staggering to the bus stop only to forget where I was heading and return home again (thanks for the small mercy, heaven).

I really must stick to beer in future as I know my tolerance to that poison. Having drunk white wine <10 times in my life, I didn't accord it the proper respect.

Today's been spent reading manga ("Welcome To The N.H.K."), snoozing, eating bland snacks, snoozing, researching an article on the Unabomber, switching to sugary snacks, and checking out reports/photos from last weekend's Animania convention.

The reason I wasn't there is because I had AG's 30th birthday on the Saturday and JH and SB's wedding on the Sunday.

The former was a relaxed affair, an outdoor barbecue at Bar Beach Bowling Club. The bouncer made me remove my cap, claiming, "It might upset the locals." I could understand that at an RSL, but at a bowlo whose patrons were mostly 30-somethings? *And* it was a Newcastle United Jets cap - the local team, whose game that night was being televised on a big screen inside the club!

J. and S. got hitched without a hitch. I rode in a stretch limo (a Lincoln Town Car) for the first and possibly only time, my best man speech got the required laughs, and even the formal dance with the (married and preggers) matron of honour didn't cause me to break a sweat.

My favourite dinosaur is the Triceratops. I also have a squishy spot for the Ankylosaurus.

Freebie of the year?

"The Star Wars Vault"
By Stephen J. Sansweet & Peter Vilmur
Simon & Schuster, ISBN 9781847371065

Does the galaxy really need another "Star Wars" hardcover? It does when the hardcover in question is fatter than Jabba The Hutt (it weighs 2.5kg and comes in a slipcase) and chockers with Yoda-like wisdom collected to celebrate the 30th anniversary of "A New Hope". But it's more than just a big book with pretty pictures, young Jedi. There are two audio CDs of classic and rare material, from radio adverts to Carrie Fisher singing. Making the package hotter than Queen Amidala and her handmaidens in a jacuzzi are the 50 pieces of "interactive memorabilia" pocketed between the pages, eg. replica Lucasfilm Christmas cards, an iron-on T-shirt transfer, even set blueprints. This is the kinda gear fans once fought lightsaber duels over.

Final word: Well worth the steep $100 asking price!

Trapped!

I got into an empty lift outside our 15th-floor office at approximately 6.50pm. The doors closed and the shiny Schindler descended as normal until the computer monitors and recorded voice indicated we'd stopped at the seventh floor. *Someone must be getting on* But the doors didn't open.

I waited a few minutes hoping the program would overcome its glitch, then I tried the "open doors" button. No response. *Maybe they weren't properly shut to begin with* "Close doors" - nothing. "Open doors" again - still nada.

Not wanting to raise a false alarm, I made up my mind to wait a full 10 minutes. In the interim, I had a quick go at prising the doors apart by hand. There was zero give. I had a flashback to that unbeatable robot dude in arm-wrestling arcade game "Arm Champs II".

At 7pm, I held the emergency button for the required five seconds. It made an offensively loud beeping as I listened to a message stating my location, followed by the sound of a number ringing. *I guess they do it in that order so visitors know exactly where they are*

A woman answered through the two-way speaker. She was friendly, if initially unhelpful.

"Try pressing the lower-numbered buttons."
"There aren't any - these lifts are operated by consoles on each floor. We have security passes."
"OK, but if you could just try the lower-numbered buttons."
"There aren't any. The only buttons are 'open doors', 'close doors' and the emergency button."
"Right. I'll have to call you back. Do you have a mobile with you?"
"No."
"Then I'll call you on this phone."

*I'll be here*

She rang again soon after and I pressed the emergency button to answer. This set off an even louder beeping - stabbing my ears like the high notes of Ian Anderson's flute solos at the Jethro Tull concert I watched from the front of the State Theatre sans earplugs - and I heard the line go dead.

I pushed the e/b a third time (the volume had returned to being merely offensive). She was now a he.

"Hi. I'm stuck in a lift and I was just speaking to someone about what's being done."
"Yes, we have your details. The technician's on his way - he'll be there in half an hour."
"I guess I'll just sit tight then."
"Is there someone you'd like me to call, to tell them you'll be late?"
"No, thank you."

I won't pretend I didn't have any silly thoughts about overnight stays or lift-shaft fires in the next 30 minutes. But it was hard to get too worried when there was light, airconditioning and a distinct absence of hysterical screaming from elsewhere in the building. I concentrated on striking a nonchalant pose, leaning against the wall and reading - pulled from my backpack - Tim Powers' "Dinner At Deviant's Palace".

At 7.30pm, I heard a voice outside.

"Hello?"
"Hello."
"It's the lift mechanic - I'll have you out in a minute."
"No worries."

Pose and read, pose and read, hydraulic noises, insert bookmark, tentatively step forward...

The doors finally separated and I walked free...onto the ground floor! There was no sign of the technician. Curiouser and curiouser. *He can't be far away*

I stood there for a while, but no-one showed - not even a Saint Bernard dog carrying a miniature barrel of brandy to help me recover from my ordeal. Or Ashton Kutcher to explain I'd been Punk'd. Or Rod Serling to conclude it'd been a brief excursion into the Twilight Zone.

Beyond the eight lifts, at the front of the building, engrossed in his newspaper, the elderly night manager had no idea what had just transpired. I gave him a shorter summary than this one and asked if he knew where the mechanic was.

"I didn't notice him come past. He might have driven into the underground carpark and caught a lift up from there."
"Well, if you do see him, just tell him thanks."