I make myself a toy car sandwich, white bread of course. After devouring it as fast as I can manage, I head off to the back bedroom where I am confronted by a vixen wearing a blonde wig while speaking in an Eastern European tongue. She calls out to me but her accent is comical so I leave the room and enter the kitchen.

The kitchen is a renovated block of flats once derelict but now buzzing with activity. There is an Asian man lying in the hallway. He appears to be intoxicated although jovial at the same time. I step over him and climb the stairs. The stairs are slippery however I notice I am wearing good shoes. When I reach the first floor the steps behind me disappear and I find myself confronted by a wall bearing the words “Aston is a god, long live Aston.” Who is this Aston I ask myself and what has he done to be deemed a god.