VIRUS CALL

Corfu is being plagued by hoax calls from sub-continental accentèd gemmun pretending that our computers are virus-ridden and offering to remote-cleanse. All the callee has to do is provide the usual public details - credit card #, password and PIN, secret word, yadda yadda - and all can be fixèd.

My call came at 1135hrs today, Dekembrios 18.

I was ready and answered with enthusiasm in my stunningly good Peter Sellers punjabi vowels.

Pity I didnt record it for maximum guffaws.

"Hello?"

'Good day, sir, i am calling from Microsoft to tell you that your computer is infected with a virus'

"But it is! This is wonderful that you are calling.

[Straight into fluent Sellersian accent]

"I am saved! I am be-seated at my computer as we are speaking, please give me the fullest instructions where I should be clicking to provide you with the full empowerment to captivate my computer and cleanse me of the infidel bug.

'Hello? Are you there, sir?'

"I am, I am! And awaiting your co-operative instructions for my next movement on my computer to rout this meddlesome e-venom which has been hampering my computer's fluency thru the ether.

'I am calling from Microsoft Windows to tell you that we have detected a virus on your computer.'

"I know! That is why I am at my computer and cursing the victimising virosity - now so happy that you are being my tech-help saviour.

Pray proceed with the utmost haste with your guidance that I will follow to the T-bone.

[my accent perfect]

'You are at your computer - now?'

"I am! But brother, am I speaking to Mr Afsar Prakash of #12a Nehru Drive? My e-Sleuther app shows that you are calling from Mumbai - no, it is Chennai. Adullah! Even my stalker GPS is malfunctioning.

I am discerning your call is centred from Daksh ~ 3rd floor.

Is Mr Richard Wells still your trainer? I hear his voice in the background, tell him hello from his old pupil and cricketing compatriot.

Atcha! I so well remember that soaring six he was sending over the boundary at the Taj Mahal Grand Tournament of willow on leather ... we were totally thrashing the Mumtaz XI on that triumphant occasion - but I digress.

"Proceed, brother-in-pads. I see you are calling from an 84 number and must not burden your telephone invoices - how is the cricket there?

How is the crease? How I miss that Frederick Trueman body-line pitch -

Goodness gracious me, I swear my googlies were breaking at veritable 90 degrees ...

Afsar, give your instructions with punctilious precision. My hand hovers over my Logitch mouse and already I am feeling new health churning through my mother board ..."

There were some strangled sounds down the line and then we were cut off.