(NOT) 15-MINUTE MEALS
So picture the scene. You're a busy executive, and spend most of your days selling, I dunno, office carpet or water filters or something equally shit. You get home from the trendy wine bar where you hang out with all the other filofax-toting hipsters after work for a quick break before going clubbing and need a meal, but on no! The Uber to come and pick you up to take you to HOLLYWOOD DREAMZ nightclub will be here in 15 minutes - that means there's not even time for you to cook one of Jamie Oliver's 15-minute meals, and if you don't eat you'll faint on the dancefloor while rocking out to Coldplay and be the laughing stock of the office tomorrow! Well sod that lark, because I'm here to save that fictional day and do the quick even quicker. It's like Usain Bolt vs a Usain Bolt clone (or is it 'an Usain Bolt clone'? Does a/an still work if it's a name?) and the clone happens to have motorbikes for legs and if that wasn't inexplicable enough an