I doubt I'm the first person, or the last for that matter, that will suffer from Xbox 360 problems other than having 3 red rings staring them in their horrified faces. Possibly the most annoying error of these is the constant overheating problem that occurs, where your Xbox will shut down and flash 2 lights every 10 minutes.

This cry for attention from my Xbox has been happening over the last couple of weeks. Every day I would throw my arms in the air, pop the monocle whence forth from my eye and spit my tea all over my lap. With two filthy flashing lights glaring back at me in disgust I contemplated how much splash damage it would cause on my lawn if I threw it out the window.

But alas, I could not bring myself to destroy my beloved Xbox. How else would I experience the ear-piercing frequencies of 10 year old racists? How else would I get the chance to throw two cuddling stormtroopers down a ventilation shaft? Only in my dreams and nightmares unfortunately.

This brought me to the disagreeable option of ringing Xbox customer support. Though the staff there were courteous and helpful, they would not listen to my pleas for a brand new 360, they would not heed the cries of my broken heart, offering instead that I send it in for repairs but nothing more.

Repairs? At this point I welled up, ashen faced with burning tears slipping down my cheeks, it took all my will to hold it together. "Please" I begged, "I'll send cookies, hookers, whatever you want, just give me a new Xbox!"

"I'm sorry sir we can't supply you with a brand new Xbox, give us £60 and send it in for repairs", he didn't say anything about the hookers at this point, but I knew he was tempted.

"£60!?" I exclaimed. "What will I use to buy FarCry 2? AND HOOKERS FOR THAT MATTER". "I'm sorry sir, your problem is not covered in the extended 3 year warranty, only hardware failures. And your ability to acquire the services of a humble wench is your own problem."

Unable to beg any more, disdain flooded my arm resulting in the thunderous crash of the phone upon the holder. "Damn" I whispered under my pepperoni smelling breath.

This left me one final option, searching google. When all the solutions I found online were unable to suffice, I almost accepted my fate, that I would never be able to play by beloved games again. (Well at least not for the price of £60 and waiting 10 days for repairs). But suddenly, a thought hit me, a slap in the face like a wet fish, or that girl I thought was a hooker and offered money to in the supermarket the other day.

Youtube. Youtube was to be my salvation, a young man by the completely unrelated nickname FixYourOwnXbox had posted a video detailing exactly what to do to open your Xbox. Salivating I clicked his video and was enthralled for the whole video at how dexterous he was with a screwdriver, how his hard yet tender hands managed to peel open the flesh of his 360 and delve into the wonderful insides.

I followed his every dictation, like a school boy getting into the back of a strangers van and eventually wrestled free my Xbox from the oppression of its cover.

Suddenly and without warning, I became frozen in time, horrified, dismayed, shocked beyond all recognition at the view that lay in front of me. The insides of my darling Xbox stared back at me with contempt, a blaming, shuffling look that took the very soul of me and crushed it into oblivion. Dust, dust, dust, it seemed to say with snapping lips and hateful glances. The whole inside of my 360 was caked with dust, cigarette ash and some random viscous substance that looked like tapeworm.

I edged forth, running my hand across it. My hand screamed out in damnation that such a thing was upon me, but still it needed cleaning. I vacuumed with the wit and fancy of 500 housewives, I scrubbed like a man caught with lipstick on his collar until all was well and sparkling in the Xbox.

Finally, as if the shroud of Mount Doom had been lifted, my 360 was in perfect condition, shiny, clean smelling and quieter than usual, its gentle purring soothing me, letting me know I had done a good job.

At last, I was free from the curse, at last I could play Brothers In Arms completely un-interrupted, at last I could touch my - "Dinner is ready" came a booming voice, shaking the very walls around me into submission. After a scared silence, I suggested "I'll be there in a minute". But the voice would not be silenced, it repeated its original order, but this time, with such depth and tone that the words would not be out of place coming from Satan herself.

It was then I realised, the once swelling pride that I had fixed my Xbox, the happiness that I could now shoot some Nazis, was now shattered due to the demands from a petite 5"6 woman. But I will have my revenge, like Hitler himself, what with gassing all those people at a dinner party with his dangerous flatulence. My time begins soon, mark my words woman, a war is brewing.

- Andy Howells - also writes erotic novels for polar bears.