Flat flambé.

So on Friday, we were all - 'all' being a sort of extended Mafia family, the Belgians and just about anyone else we could convince - on a veritable Big Night Out. We started off in Bonsai* (and just about stayed there for the rest of the night - it took so long to get anything to eat I was weak with hunger) and then headed off to Bannerman's in the Cowgate to rally the troops.

An aside is called for at this point: a friend from work (who will remain nameless to protect the lucky-to-be-alive) had come along with us, and was getting on very well with a German girl called Iris. Iris is (deep breath) the flatmate of the sister of a friend of Jeff, but that's not important. Anyway, this colleague of mine had obviously been deploying some fearsome chat, and Iris had given him her number, which he entered in his mobile.

Back to the rest of the action: after Bannerman's, we headed on to Medina - of course - and frittered the night away in the usual manner.

The next morning, I was dragged out of a pleasantly hungover sleep by a phonecall. It was the aforementioned workmate, asking rather plainitively if I had Iris' number. The sorry story came out: he'd gone home after Medina and decided to have a smoke before bed. He couldn't find his lighter, so sparked up with a small cookery-type blowtorch he had lying about in the kitchen. Mission accomplished, he plonked the blowtorch on a table in the living room and headed off to bed.

The next morning, he woke up and wandered through to the living room. He found a blackened stump where the table had been, smoke filling the room and the walls streaked with soot. Upon the ex-table were the incinerated remains of his mobile phone and the remote controls for his TV, VCR and DVD player. His TV also appeared to have suffered from smoke inhalation, and didn't work any more.

Oh how I laughed once the shock had worn off. I gave him Iris' flatmates number and went back to bed.

* I used to feel sorry for Bonsai - it was always empty, and it just felt like it deserved to be busier. Tcha! No longer!