His weapon of choice was a dusty Bush DVD recorder, its remote held together by a single strip of electrical tape. Every evening, he performed the ritual. He pressed , navigated to the Digital Text Service, and waited for the grainy yellow rectangle labelled DVB-T to populate the schedule.

And somewhere in the digital wasteland of Croydon, a server knows you're watching.

Leo knew the sacred text by heart: Channel 6. 6:00 PM. The Simpsons. ITV2.

He never recorded a show again. But sometimes, late at night, the old Bush recorder whirs to life by itself. The display reads , and if you put your ear to the speaker, you can hear Sweep laughing.

Leo looked down at his remote. The button was gone. Just a melted crater of black plastic where it used to be.