YOU thought you were prepared. You thought you had batteries enough for beyond Christmas. But however many you had, it is not enough.
I know. I once stood where you are. I, Roy Hobbs of Warwick, once tried to provide enough batteries to feed my familiy’s insatiable desire for portable power over Yule.
I bought double As. Dozens of them. Even the bloody expensive rechargeable ones with the plug-in charger. It was not enough.
I had triple As spilling from their packets. Good Duracell ones too, not those shite Duracell ones from the pound shop that don’t last a day. It was not enough.
I even had the weird ones, the flat silver discs and the big square blocks, all kept in the back of that drawer with the old remote controls for stuff we don’t own. Tiny batteries and batteries that could power military-grade vehicles. It was not enough.
For this toy, despite having no visible need for any electronic power, requires batteries so rare they will not be sold in any supermarkets. But you will forced to go anyway.
And, when you stand in Sainsbury’s Local with the wrong battery in your hand facing a trip to B&Q, do as I did. Fake your death and escape the country. It’s easier than the f**king batteries.
