I know it's probably a bit raw right now, but who cares? Yes, I'm going to hell. Got to work this morning and was just settling into me ARRSE sofa when I got a call from my very shaken missus who was due to get on a train to London this morning for a meeting. She asked me to come down and meet her as some blerk was on the railway line. Cue me, Mr Heart, leaping off to do my duty in supporting me good lady missus, and not just to see some gore. Gets down there, and there's all the shocked crowds and grief ghouls, and there's our boy, on the tracks, being resuscitated. Turns out, he's a cyclist, and he'd carted his bicycle down the steps over his shoulder and on to the platform; got back on it, started peddling, and was heard to say "Oh Gawd, nooo!" before he went off the edge of the platform, gripping his broken brake levers with everything he had. The pedal clips didn't help him has he, still attached to them, cartwheeled head first onto the live rail, whereupon he twitched and fizzled and smoked for a good five minutes before someone found the off button. Looks like they managed to resuscitate him, but I don't think he'll stay that way for long. I don't think my mentioning my urgent requirement for a burger upon sniffing the air went down too well, but hey ho, I was hungry. The question! Darwin Award for this man? I think so. Considered thoughts please ladeez and gennelmen.