Rest in Peace, Christine.

This is a very short update, as it is quarter to midnight.

There is much more that needs to be spoken about from recent events that will have to be covered at a more appropriate time. Things such as Centre parcs and train journey challenges. For now we must deal a loss.

Christine, for those of you who don't know, is the name that was affectionately given to my car. My car had some interesting idiosyncrasies, such as the stereo whining when the accelerator is depressed, tempermental breaks that could cause you to stop dead from merely touching the pedal or let you continue for much longer than you really should after breaking. She was also a bit of a mule when it came to starting and stopping and would kick and shudder all over then place. You couldn't really park Christine, it was more of a controlled stall... which is rather impressive in a car with automatic transmission. But Christine gained her name from the interesting noise made by the windscreen wipers, which sounded ominously enough, like the words "bye bye". This put me in mind of the possessed car that Stephen King wrote of, 'Christine'.

For those of you who have not yet picked up on the use of the past tense, let me put it bluntly. Christine is no longer with us. Last night, at ten past eight, Christine met her maker. Well, not her actual maker as she was a Fiat Punto and I'll be damned if I'm paying to send a car to Italy! On our way, in convoy, to a friend's leaving do in Claygate a complete loon driving at God knows what speed smashed into poor Christine as we pulled into a car park, crumpling her bonnet, nigh on detonating her radiator and sending her bouncing back into the car behind. Both other cars involved in the accident promtply drove off. But not before the driver of the offending car shouted a few choice words through the windscreen at me. Luckily both my passengers and I were unharmed, and thank God there were two other cars full of friends nearby who saw everything, helped me out and got the car's details.

If you live in the Claygate area (I know he did, as a man from the pub came out and told me he was local, known to the police and had been in the pub for a considerable time just before the accident) and drive a White Ford Fiesta XR2 then you better watch yourself. We have your license plate number, and now so do the police. Good job matey, you've just been in a hit and run and I'm not best pleased. Not to sound corny but, you wouldn't like me when I'm angry. You wrote off my car, and put the live of my friends in danger. Think about which of your limbs you are least fond of and I'll happily remove it, and anything else that comes to mind, when I see you.