Everything was black.

Dylan looked around in the blackness. He could see Elsie. That was it.

‘Remember, you are in virtual reality. You can’t move or talk. Think about it. Think which way you’re going. Think what you’re talking. I know it sounds like a cat poster, but it’s true.’

Poltergeist’s voice echoed around them. Echoed. So this room or whatever had walls.

Then the man appeared.

He was short with a brown suit. He had a red tie, with a blue shirt under his coat. His mousy-brown hair was thinning, and small glasses were perched on the end of his nose. He held an old-fashioned scroll. His shoes were black and shiny. He unfurled his scroll and began to read.

Attention, attention, the old and the fat

Prepare to be astounded and shocked, at that

When men take to the skies, and mice can talk

But many are slain by a gigantic sock

Horror of horrors, gladness of caymans

Do not enter the clutches of daemons

Nine hundred more and fifty eight, too

Now go away before you drool on my shoe.

He began to walk away.

‘Hey!’ yelled Dylan after him. ‘What was all that about?’

The man turned. ‘Oh, that.‘ he said. ‘Don’t pay attention to it. No-one does. It’s like the introduction to a book.’

‘If we don’t have to pay attention, why didn’t you telll us that before you read?’

‘Because then nobody would listen to it.’

Elsie snorted. Dylan started walking away.

‘Hey, come back!’ shouted the man. ‘You can’t walk away from me! I’m the president of the United States!’

‘You’re president of Deluded Fruitcakes Anonymous!’ replied Dylan. ‘Give me a break.’

He and Elsie walked away, leaving the P of DFA arguing with himself about butter.