Super-Tattie

Yes, I am a superhero. I always suspected as much, but until this afternoon had not had the chance to prove it.

We were just getting ready to go shopping when an alarm went off somewhere in the building. We weren't sure what is what, so obviously ignored it. A few minutes later, we heard very loud banging coming from next to the flat and realised someone was stuck in the lift.

The guy could shout to us but the emergency intercom button wasn't working. It was obvious this was a job for Super Tattie. Remembering all my training (numerous viewings of Die Hard) I ran to the roof, finding the entrance to the lift shaft. I tore my t-shirt off and used it to protect my hands as I slid down the lift cables, landing quite heavily on the top of the lift and causing it to shake quite violently - cue much screaming and swearing. Opening the hatch, I found the man and his daughter dishevelled and cowering in the corner of the lift, a look of gratitude and admiration on their faces. "Come with me", I commanded gruffly, and with both of them clinging to my legs I hoisted us back up the three floors of cable to the roof and safety. Never one to blow my own trumpet, I ran off before they could ask who I was and had a quick wash before heading off to Superdrug for some cough mixture. Got a terrible tickly affliction at the moment. And so, I bide my time, waiting for the next time the Brixton sky is lit up with the symbol of the spud, safe in the knowledge that my actions had avoided near certain disaster, or at the very least some minor wasting of time.

Either that, or I called the fire brigade and left them to it once they arrived a few minutes later. Apparently you're supposed to call 999 in these events, just in case you ever find yourself in a similar situation. I still feel quite glad I helped though.