(diaryland) April 26, 2001 - 11:26 p.m.

Prepare for the Worst Story Ever Told! There�s no proper ending! There�s no exposition! There�s silly names! There�s no sex scenes! I did not revise it!

So I did go to the bank. And it was open, as it turned out. But the bank teller just stood there, with his mouth hanging open. In the middle of talking.

�Aaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh�� he said. People in the street had been doing this, too. In fact, I was the only person who wasn�t stuck like a record. I knew I shouldn�t have pressed the emergency button next to my bed.

The button had been there for years. I had just wanted to dust it. Kind of. Maybe dust it, and then press it a little. I felt bad. Yet strangely tidy.

So I decided to go to the ATM. I tried to put my card in, but it was all jammed up. Probably the time freezing thing. I looked around the intersection. Out of the corner of my eye, a light flickered. It came from the service station. Perhaps a flickering light was a good thing. At least there was movement of some kind happening there. I ran through the thicket of still cars on the road and into the servo. Nubert was behind the counter, looking a little worse for wear.

�I think I�ve done something dreadfully wrong,� he said, as he gazed to the side.

I followed his eyes and saw it. �Oh, golly,� I said. He�d pressed his emergency button too. �Nubert, it�s just terrible, isn�t it?�

Nubert slumped down next to his cleaning bucket and began to cry. �What are we going to do, Jetty? What are we going to do?�

�Don�t panic,� I said. �We�ll just press it again. Together. And hopefully everything will be fine.� Pressing the button couldn�t possibly make the whole thing any worse.

�OK,� panted Nubert as he waved at his face. �Let�s try.�

We stretched out our little fingers and pressed the button together. Our bodies creaked to a halt and we went completely stiff. Thank goodness for that.