I've decided I'm probably going to hell.

Not in the sense of how you might say, "I've decided I'm going to Tenerife". Oh no. Although Hell and Tenerife probably share many characteristics (very hot climate, bad food, club 18-30 holiday reps), it is not my destination through conscious choice. I am however doubtless to be banished into the infinite pits of oblivion because I am a very bad person.

Let me tell you of the incident that I think tipped the ineffable scales of justice in the direction of eternal hellfire and damnation. It was a normal Sunday afternoon. I still had masses of work to do and so fired up the old computer and launched into a game of online multiplayer Half-Life 2. (Shooting each other 'n' stuff. Good fun).

(Note to girls and those with lives, this article isn't going to be about computer games. So soldier through the next paragraph and then you're safe).

Anyway, they reckon that this game is pretty much impossible to cheat in, for reasons too arcane to detail here (ie I don't understand them). But someone had managed it; running around at twice the speed of everyone else, nearly invulnerable to damage. As you might imagine, this gave him quite an edge and soon he was at the top of the rankings.

The ten billionth time he killed me without me even seeing him coming, I asked him, by means of in-game typing, what he thought he was gaining by this unfairness as he certainly wasn't winning anyone's respect. He replied something to the effect of,

"Har har yore a fucking fa***t and i rool u all."

Maybe it was being talked to like one of his grubby little urchin peers, or maybe all the on-screen killing just overloaded my neurones with violence. But I saw red. And I really went to town, laying into this poor kid with every soul destroying piece of bile I could think of. Profanities were automatically censored, but I wasn't using any. I was knawing like a rat at his cheese of his psyche. I was on fire. Some highlights,

"All those people who bully you at school because you are a nerd. Now you'll show them. Beat them all Half-Life!"
"So you have no real friends. But that doesn't matter, because you have 'friends' on the internet."
"You see the glowing rectangle in front of you? Outside of that is the 'real world'. You should try it. You might even meet girls. Of course, they'll run away at first, but persevere. You might find one who can stand you."

And all he could think to say was to call me a fa***t over and over. And the other people, tired of his dishonest winning, were laughing at him (or at least typing "lol"). Finally, he came back with,

"Yeah, but I am real smart. I kno Dutch! I bet you can't speak a hole nother language! Har har retard!"

"Well," I replied, "I can't speak Dutch, but I have a rudimentary grasp of hieroglyphics and some knowledge of Latin..."

"Rite sumthing latin then"

"Tuus mater canus est"

"Wot duz that mean?"

Several people "lmfao"ed and one person "lshiaraotf" (your guess is as good as mine), then someone translated for him. At that point my computer crashed and died, but I continued chuckling to myself for several minutes until Satan's pointy stick of guilt started poking at my smug-centre. What if that kid was really hurt by my remarks? I bet he gets all that shit at school too, then escapes to the internet only for arseholes like me make fun of him. In the real world I would never dream of being so horrible to anyone.

I tried to turn my computer back on, find the kid and apologise, but my PC was truly kaput. Cost £160 to repair too (now that's karma).

What is the take-home message? "Don't be nasty to people on the internet just because you can"? Could be. "Violent computer games turn people into utterly reprehensible bastards that kick old ladies and drink the blood of kittens"? Possibly. I ain't really moralising here, just trying to salve my conscience.

So kid, if by some strange coincidence you read this, I'm sorry, ok? And if you have any messages for George Bush, let me know. I'll be seeing him real soon.