You eagerly turn the handle, lift a couple of bolts and slip through the hefty hatch labled fire exit.

You find yourself in a circular, metal pipe with grills set into some of the sides, and a roof low enough to force you to crouch.

However it's not your cramped position, the grills digging painfully into your knees or the knew metal turn the surroundings have taken which really interests you, ---- not with that bright circle at the end of the pipe, a circle that you know must be sunlight.

out! out into the real world, back to mobile phones, and pizza hut and bad reality tv.

however you soon realize, as the bright circle of blinding whiteness gets rapidly closer, ---- far more rapidly than your humping progress could account for, that this isn't an exit in case of fire, ---- it's an exit into! fire!

As the metal starts to heat up around you you desperately try to push yourself away from the advancing column of superheated white flames, but every second the air gets thinner, and the metal sides start first to blister, then to burn.

Luckily, the heat is intense enough to insure that your end is quick, ---- though sadly not quick enough to avoid being excruciatingly painful in the process.

Well, probably one of the nastier ways to go, though really one which could've been avoided with a litle thought on the connotations of the word "fireexit"

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