Yrtl’s initial reaction, forgivable he hoped, was to beat on the walls and shout for help. But of course, the Seal of the Confessional was absolute and bolstered by the resistant, soundproof fabric of the Autofess booth – so eventually he stopped, and waited for judgement.

Presently, the screen activated and a face appeared, ancient and craggy beneath a tangle of white hair.

“Oh my God…” whispered Yrtl automatically, but, he thought on reflection, rather appropriately.

“Hello?” it croaked, “Is someone there? I can’t see – there appears to be some fault.”

“Eh?” replied Yrtl, bewildered – and then, as the thought occurred to him, burst into nervous laughter. Of course!

“You must be the System Administrator!”

Jeez, he thought, observing the decrepit figure more closely, has this guy gone to seed. He knew these backroom IT boys could let themselves go a bit, but really – would a haircut hurt so much?

“System what?” the stranger snapped, crossly. Yrtl made to reply, when the screen went dark again.