You don't have to be mad to work here...

Regular readers may have an impression of my office from the many posts I have written concerning my working day. I can summarise by saying that it is not a place of much thrilling drama, hysterical cackles or fun and games of any sort. Money is the matter at hand and it is taken fairly seriously by all and sundry. Tomfoolery is not generally looked upon favourably. One of the traders wears orange trousers as an ironic fashion statement every now and then, but that's about as crazy as things get around here.

Yesterday, however, someone must have put something in the water, because in the middle of the afternoon my ears were stunned to hear some clapping, guffawing and, indeed, some shouts. 'Could this be revelry?' I asked myself. I stood up and witnessed a young man grimacing. Another gentleman said, 'I was about to go and get my lunch but I think I'll wait now.' Curiouser and curiouser...

Later on, the mystery was explained. An optimistic fellow was bet £250 by his workmates that he couldn't eat fifty chicken nuggets - without beverage or sauce - in fifteen minutes. Having consumed thirty, he realised he wouldn't attain his goal. At 37, he reached the point where he broke even and wouldn't lose any money. Then he was sick in his bin.

This is far and away the most exciting and funny thing that has happened in my office since I started working here in March. Which is, in itself, profoundly depressing. What is also disappointing is that they didn't ask me to perform the challenge. I can think of few things I'd like better than to eat four chicken nuggets a minute for fifteen minutes. In fact, such would be my joy on taking part in this experience that I don't think I'd feel right about accepting any winnings. Competitive eating: maybe at last I've found my career calling.