(Erik has returned! He did in fact decline an offer to play the Phantom in 'Phantom of the Opera' so he could be here instead. But I'm sure this is far more exciting! Please spare a moment for a review. Enjoy!)

Erik's Requiem

Hot Spoons & The Charlatan

"I swear…he's been watching that blasted programme for hours now. He can't get any closer to that wretched television without being sat upon it!

I can't take it any more. I want to have my none existent eyes gorged out with hot spoons. I want to self implode and splatter the gallery with molten steel. I want to have my gorget twisted and burned in front of me. I want to be torn limb from metallic limb…anything to numb the pain of this ongoing torture!

He has sat for the past four and a half hours, in that same spot on the couch. He hasn't gotten up, gone to the toilet, he hasn't taken food or even drink. The only movement he has made is his right thumb clicking the bloody rewind button on the remote. Oh, and his ridiculous wigged head wiggles when he lets slip the odd nod of approval.

Over and over and over again. Rewind…watch…rewind…watch…rewind…watch. GOD WHEN WILL IT END!

I enjoy television as much as anyone, I really do. But this takes it to new and disconcerting levels. We are now in unchartered areas of unhealthy obsession. His fixation with that sodding programme is truly worrying; he is utterly fascinated by it. I don't even think if I got up and did an Irish jig in front of him he'd pay a blind bit of notice!

I mean, I'm not sure what one would classify it as. Complete vanity or sheer weirdness!

The way he is just sat there…I think he might develop a thrombosis or something. He has simply sat there…staring at that god forsaken television screen. I'm praying for a power cut…please Lord let it be so!

I really do not know what to do. This is truly worse than anything I have ever endured and I've been through a lot let me tell you. I've slayed the terrifying Slovakian Sharptail dragon with one hand. I've gone to battle against the most revered Count Ulrich Von Vildermiere of the darkest Byderland. I've even scaled two hundred foot walls surrounded by the deepest motes to rescue pretty damsels in distress. But never ever have I experienced anything as near as frightening and disturbing as this.

Why oh why does he insist upon making me face the damned television room. I'd rather stare at the wall for twenty-four hours!

Much more of this and I shall truly go insane…

In fact my brain is beginning to itch...damn my inability to move…

Wait…I don't have a brain…do I?

Oh sweet God the madness is creeping in…

Whoever introduced this charlatan to the idea of 'V-tv' seriously wants hurting."