“Nine hundred and Ninety-nine bottles of Sake on the wall” wailed Merk “Nine-hundred and Ninety-nine, take one down and pass it around, and you have Nine-hundred and Ninety-eight bottles on the wall...”

At ‘Nine-hundred and forty-two’ the Driver had began to snap. At “ Seven-hundred and thirty-six he had lost the will to live. And from Five-hundred and Seventy, onwards, he sat hunched over the steering wheel with and odd manic grin on face, occasionally whispering strange disjointed phrases to himself.