A personal highlight of Rezzed for me was when I trapped The Guardian’s Keith Stuart in a corner and repeatedly stabbed him with a sharpened blade. He tried helplessly to run between each swipe, staggering dazedly away, but I relentlessly pursued, moving faster, unfaltering, utterly determined to fulfil the demands of my dark passenger. “That’s for working for a lily-livered pinko scum leftwing weasel rag!” I exclaimed, as I plunged the knife into his spine. “That’s for helping that traitor Snowden to destroy democracy!” I snarled as I connected with what I think was his neck, but honestly it was getting hard to tell by that point. So much blood. “That’s for the indulgent Shoreditch coffee shop!” I reasoned as I struck harder still. “That’s for being so awful to cuddly Uncle Rupert!” I bellowed as I carved a scarlet tunnel through to his liver. “That’s for all those spelling mistakes!” I screeched as the last of his gravy ran to the floor. “And that,” I intoned with satisfaction as I turned on my heel and walked away, “is for continuing to give bloody Tim Dowling the opening column in the Saturday magazine.” Yeah, I know Keith’s just the paper’s games guy, but I had to start somewhere, right?