Following Wickham’s intervention with the super-soaker, chaos reigns at the Rosings dinner table. When I was writing the denouément at the end of today’s episode, I knew there was something missing, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was until it struck me that it was the ideal opportunity to use the greatest cliché phrase in all sci-fi literature. And that became the title for the episode as well.
It’s been an interesting couple of weeks. Looking at the stats, I see that the daily hits for www.mrsdarcyvsthealiens.com are now regularly outstripping www.jonathanpinnock.com, but that the overall number of unique IP addresses is lower. I think that this, combined with the fact that far fewer of Mrs Darcy’s hits are from the – ahem – Russian Federation, suggests that there are indeed quite a few genuine regular readers out there. Oh, and hi to all the spambots who drop in on this place, too 🙂
It’s all go …
I am not a spambot, I am a free… something. Sorry, the trailers for the prisoner have been on again.
Ha. That’s one re-make I’m really dreading.