Clearing away the straggly remains of Christmas from my place of employ today, I found myself at the mercy of a small but insistent voice at the back of my head.
"Now you can really get a good run-up.", it said, apropos of nothing.
"I wonder what that means?" Said one of the more actively-conscious chunks of my psyche. "It couldn't be... oh. Oh, God."
It turns out my subconscious wants me to play Assassins Creed with the customers. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this novel form of digital violence (I can think of one person likely to read this who hasn't at some point sat and watched me play this, so this is for you) it essentially involves you running around, and climbing over, various ancient and allegedly holy places in an effort to find Bad Men and stab them in the throat with the pointy end of the stabby thing.
Now, whilst I couldn't do all the climbing, I can run pretty damn fast. I don't do this very often, because of various complex and intertwined factors (my size, a lack of any desire to). One of the ways in which you introduce Bad Men to Mr. Stabby is by running at them, jumping, placing a knee on their spine or stomach (dependant on angle of approach), and driving Mr. Stabby into their neck. I (on the suggestion of my apparently deeply impressionable subconscious) feel that this is an area in which I can truly excel.
They never should have given me a pen.