I like book shops, I like the fact that you can stand around in them all day doing nothing but sipping coffee and idly flicking through books. It is even better when you work in the shop, and are getting paid to do nothing.

Actually, I doubt whether I was really being paid to do nothing. Maybe that was just my interpretation of the job. People that work in bookshops have loads to do. They have to raise their eyebrows when you ask for something that is not part of some rapidly changing list of acceptable books to ask for in bookshops, they get to not answer the telephone when you call them up, and they get to tell you, “no, but we can order it for you” even if you are just asking whether they have a toilet on site….

 Now they have another task as well, well at least the ones in Waterstone’s do.

As part of the web site’s relaunch - following its split off from Amazon - punters can ask questions of the shop floor experts. The chap I spoke to from Waterstone’s about the relaunch expected the questions to be along the lines of “I want to buy a book for a fifteen year old boy, who likes Sci-fi, can you recommend me one?”. But that’s too easy. So I came up with a couple of my own:

I read a Dan Brown book and think it is better than the bible. Are any other books better than the bible?

Is it possible to buy signed copies of books? If so, can I buy a copy of Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince, signed by Ian McEwan.

 If I buy a book and come away from it feeling disappointed and a little grubby, can I have my money back?

Waterstone’s gives itself 48 hours to respond. So, the clock is ticking.

Having just been to America on a work trip I like the sound of this little game which sees you playing airport staff with the responsibility of stripping air travellers of anything that they might use to make themselves clean, or smell better...

You can wreak havoc on personal hygiene here.

Continuing the Star Wars theme I give you this, an infamously withdrawn bubblegum trading card featuring everyone's least favourite protocol droid. C-3PO.

I have no idea why it was withdrawn...

Ladies... no longer will you have to worry about what to buy the man in your life. Firebox - the purveyor of all that is fun for five minutes - is now selling Stormtrooper outfits.

Yep, they cost thirteen hundred quids, but they are cast from the moulds used in the original Star Wars films - well at least, their helmets are, and they are Stormtrooper outfits!.

Sadly a Blaster is not included, but thats probably just as well as judging by the films they have terrible targetting  anyway.

So, there you go. Birthday present nirvana. And I never mentioned Femtroopers once.

Few people will have missed the news that the infamous Guy Goma incident is to be preserved for ever on celluloid, or at least on high definition video. 

I’ve been considering exactly how the story could be 'cinemised', but it is difficult. I can’t really see it being just a plain old 'rags to riches' or ‘cab to news studio’ story, it has to be a film much bigger than that. Think Battleship Potemkin or Miss Congeniality. 

I know that the film already has a producer attached, but just to hurry things up a bit I have put together something of a draft which, with the aid of a selection of old envelopes, I shall deliver to every mover and shaker that may or may not be involved in the movie. 

 In my film Goma is portrayed as a Zelig/Forrest Gump type, and through no design, or activity, of his own appears at the scene of some of this century’s most notorious moments. 

So, Goma can be seen standing near a grassy knoll near a book depository in 1964, giving Paula Radcliffe a little too much orange squash to drink before a big race, and behaving in a very distracting manner at the entrance to a Parisian subway.

All of this happens in the first two thirds of the film. By the time we meet the other Guy, Goma is lost, a little bedraggled, and more than a bit confused - as is the audience.

This is where we begin… 

INT – A TELEVISION STUDIO. Goma is led to a desk and has a mike attached to his breast. He takes this in the stride of a man who some (film) minutes previously was leading the D-Day landings. 

Cut to: 

Int: A TELEVISION GREEN ROOM. In the room sits Guy Kewney (played by Joss Ackland who is reprising his role as the South African uber-criminal from Lethal Weapon 2). Kewney is flanked by a man best described as large. They eat lychees and watch a screen. On the screen appears Goma.

 Cut to – A STUDIO 

Interviewer: 

We are joined today by Guy Kewney, telecoms, computer and beard expert. Guy, today’s news is quite alarming. What do you think it means for downloading music?” 

Goma:

Looks puzzled, possibly frightened, definitely like a man who has just realised he is in the wrong place, at the wrong time. He stammers. 

INT- TELEVISION GREEN ROOM - Kewney is livid. He sprays elements of lychee out and shouts in the face of his henchman.

“This is ridiculous. Who is this usurper?  It is patently obvious is that this man, this imposter, has absolutely no idea about digital rights management at all.” 

Kewney attempts to leave the room but his exit is barred by his henchman who has, by this point, discovered a buffet table that he had previously missed. After some wrestling – we must ensure that this has no homo-erotic undertones - Kewney tosses his accomplice aside and runs for the door... 

“this man must be stopped…”

 

And there I ran out of ideas. So, over to you readers. Yes, you two. What should happen next? Should the guys wrestle it out? Should our Guy step aside and let the other Guy be Guy? What’s with all the guys anyway? What sort of bar is this?

 

If you want to play a part in the greatest story to be never told then send in your ideas, doodles, and hair portraits to the usual addresses.