Well over a year after the mucky stuff first hit the fan, Commodore were rescued from the clammy clutches of the liquidator this week by those noble heroes from, er, Escom. It wasn't actually Commodore of course, merely its assets, which the liquidator invited bids for in an auction. The UK management team (it wasn't their fault - the UK division was profitable) were widely expected to get the goodies but, in a bizarre twist which has never been fully explained, they withdrew at the last minute and let the Germans in.

Escom were hardly the most appropriate custodians of the Amiga and all it represented: for a start, they were the second largest indigenous European PC manufacturer, and 'enjoyed' a reputation within the trade for producing - I'm sorry, there's no other word - absolute shite, which they then peddled to the public at rock bottom prices through their own chain of shabby shops. These stores were, in the main, old Rumbelows branches which they also picked up for peanuts when that chain went through. The price of $10 million included a fair amount of stock, plus all the patents, and Amiga Magic bundles started appearing within months of the takeover.

What Escom perhaps failed to appreciate, though, was that how much resistance to the once-blessed machine there would be under their ownership. Why would any High Street chain - or independent computer retailer - buy a product from a company that was not only a competitor but was aggressively and deliberately trying to put them out of business, through both fair means and foul? (Foul? Oh yes, one day, when the lawyers aren't looking, I'll slip in some 'amusing' Escom anecdotes).

Predictably then, the relaunched ("Look! A poster!") Amiga did nothing, and the very next year, in a vast explosion of bad debts, dishonoured warranty claims and very dodgy practices, Escom themselves expired. And bloody good riddance too. Bastards.