I have decided that I will take my normal stance on shocking developments and I thus refuse to accept that Ultrajoe is actually UltraJosephine until I see it for myself.
Which, unless SmallHarmlessKitten or Lord Harrab manage to find out where I live, stuff me in a comically large suitcase and take me with them, is not going to happen for a long time yet.
You can't fool me with your talk of nice get-togethers and laser tag. I've been to Australia before, three lucky escapes from the jaws of death is three times too many for this Ninja.
I should stop going on holiday, weird things keep happening whenever I leave.
Last time I went on holiday everyone magically moved on from "We're all awesome!" to "People who say 'we're all awesome' are the cancer that is killing escapist"
Now this?
No.
Ultrajoe, you are a hulking beast of a man in blue (or black and red) armour with big sweaty balls and I won't hear anything to the contrary.
On the other side of things which doesn't make me appear like a rambling and infantile man-child, I am grateful that Gerald was left alone for this Sydney encounter. Many thanks are heftily lobbed in the general direction of Australia.