During a lull in the action, I took the opportunity to ask how you, as the commander of your team of special forces soldiers, would be able to interact with your comrades.

I watched for a while as a manic bot-filled firefight kicked off on one of CZ’s impressive-looking new levels, where shards of debris flew off every surface as mis-aimed bullets thudded into walls. speaking to a pair of buck-toothed Ren and Stimpey lookalikes. Standing in front of me, was the man himself, Mr Randy Pitchford, not a bazooka-toting behemoth, but an affable enthusiastic man. Suddenly it appeared, looming from the greyness like a beacon to the lost, drawing in slack-jawed observers like fireflies to a lantern. Visibility was down to a minimum as I eked my way through swathes of bodies, matted together with sweat and spilt coffee towards the Gearbox stand showing Counter-Strike: Condition Zero, the single-player version of the greatest online shooter of our time. My mission - to track down legendary developer Randy Pitchford, who, it was rumoured, was as big as a giant and had a rocket launcher for an arm.

Throngs of pallid, under-nourished journos shunted their way from one room to the next as Hill and I peeled off in opposite directions. After four and a half hours, we arrived at the grandiose building, and were promptly ushered out of the vehicle by clucking Frenchmen towards the galleries housing a host of VU Games developers demonstrating their wares to the press.

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