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This is one call Victor doesn't fancy making, but he has no choice in the matter. Derek is off ill, his arm in plaster after armwrestling his twelve-year old daughter.
He looks up at the imposing brown brick facade of Villa Park and his sphincter twitches. This is it. The home of the enemy. He drags his feet up two flights of steps from Witton Road, turns right and climbs three more flights to where a security man waits, head like a block of granite on a body the size of Star City.
'You the computer bloke?' growls The Hulk.
Victor nods.
'Follow me.' The Hulk turns and squeezes through the building's double doors.
This isn't the first time Victor has been here. The last time was four seasons ago, when Villa gave the Blues a right drubbing (5-1). He won't ever forget that match. A minor disagreement with a Villa fan in a curry house ended with a rolled chapatti up Victor's nostril and a Lamb Tikka Shashlik Massalla inside his shirt.
'In 'ere.' The Hulk stops beside a door marked IT Department and scowls at him.
As Victor edges past him he feels the weight of a small boulder on his shoulder. 'You a Villa fan?'
Victor gulps, sweat bubbles on his forehead. 'Course.'
An overpowering smell of halitosis makes Victor's eyes water as the giant brings his face to within inches of his.
'Baggies man, meself.' He grins, teeth like tombstones in a ghost town and then winks. 'Might meet you again sometime.'
It's the fastest migration to a Blackberry Enterprise server that Victor has ever done.
Head down, he scuttles down the steps and across Witton Road. Glancing up at Villa Park, he sees the security man watching him from the top of the steps.
The Hulk smiles, waggles his fingers in goodbye, and then blows him a kiss.
NEXT MONTH: Victor goes VOIP
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