And a shriek of pain.
The old half of the Cottage plunges into darkness; the sharp sound of glass scattering is followed by the crunch of feet treading it into the floor. Through the corridor, drifting into my startled nostrils, wisps the unmistakable aroma of burning hair.
“Short Tony is on the Wii,” I sigh to myself.
I am not saying that the Wii Fit has been a white elephant, but as something that has fulfilled its promise it does approach the status of a Millenium Dome that’s been filled from top to bottom with an assortment of Hummers, flavoured Kit-Kats, the BBC 3-D flying weathermap and fifteen boxes of DAB Digital radios, all painted white and fitted with a large trunk. There comes a point when abuse about your weight has ground you down so much that you are just afraid to step on to the thing, and so the balance board is gathering dust in the corner.
Quite heavy dust, I would imagine, should I use it again.
“I’ve had a bit of an accident,” informs Short Tony, limping ruefully into the kitchen, his head slightly smoking.
However, I have to say that the game where you have to hold the control things and dance along to the Jackson 5 is endlessly entertaining. As I have mentioned before, I was a bit disappointed to find that modern video games didn’t all consist of running people over in fast cars and murdering prostitutes, as it says in the papers, but – for me – dancing along to the Jackson 5 is a pretty close second, even if it doesn’t match the games of the classic era. If they could have a game where you danced along to the Jackson 5 whilst climbing things and avoiding barrels being rolled at you by a big gorilla then frankly that would be gold dust. But there is no imagination amongst developers today.
“I’d better get a dustpan and brush,” I tell him, as he puts out his head.
I clear up most of the glass after resetting the fusebox. Short Tony apologises about the light fittings. The LTLP returns home. There are some awkward explanations.