"Oh God, Dad, these people are going to make me late for work."As usual, Scaryduckling isn't quite on time for her Saturday job at Weymouth's finest tat emporium (marshmallow willies and cuddly meerkats a speciality), and her lift to work has been slowed down by a little old lady in a Nissan Micra driving like she's behind the wheel of a hearse.
Luckily, we too are in a Nissan Micra. An excellent one with jet engines mounted with afterburners, warp coils and phased plasma rifles.
I nip down a side street, take a diversion through a back alley - tramps diving for their very lives - narrowly avoid a paperboy as we rattle down some steps behind the fire station, to emerge, turning on a sixpence with a little help from the handbrake *just* in front of our dusty-minged arch-nemesis.
I catch my reflection in the rear-view mirror.
Above my head - for the briefest of moments - are the words "Player One: +2XP", confirming what I've always suspected: We're all trapped in a first-person shoot-em-up.
This can only be a good thing. Once I get past the boss battle, I unlock the Bugatti Veyron.
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