This week, GK gets involved with a voice from beyond the grave, a large amount of cash and dirty dealings. The outcome is surprisingly jocular...

Game Kid's Aunty Mandy died and left him enough money so that he'd never need to work again - except the old bitch had ensured he had to. So he was sitting, mulling over one of the many codicils that laced her PGP-encrypted emailed Will.

"If, five months after my demise, Game Kid has not written a best-selling PC-based game, all the money will go to those nice boys at Future Gamer."

Aunty Mandy had been a game-maker, responsible for such gems as World Class Shakespearean Actor, Sega Muffin Eater, Ethan Hawke Rollerblading and Girlie Paddling Pool Diver Deluxe, all of which had died deaths everywhere but Finland. She'd made her real money from selling dodgy Amiga 500s.

The Kid didn't care about the cash, most of which he'd salted away in ostrich farms and a useful marlin fishing franchise in Calabria. He did not, however, want to see "those nice boys at Future Gamer" get their hands on the residue of the spending spons.

"Old woman. Will. Death. After-death farging around. Ghosts. Evil. Money... Write about what you know." Cheering himself up with a glass of Tanglefoot and a small exotic cheroot, he set about emailing all his good friends in the games industry.