Joshua Time!

Following the War of the Publisher's Office, everything was quiet for a good 19 issues.

People left, new people joined, the AP Memorial Fridge became accordingly more cluttered, thousands of BB pellets ricochetted into ST Format, and outside little birdies twittered delightfully.

The Anarchic Collective then found out quite by accident that as part of a trendy open-plan campaign Simon The Publisher had arranged weeks ago for the walls to be knocked down, but had kind of forgotten to tell AP.

The lovable scatterbrained rogue!

Some ghastly excruciatingnesses later, AP by virtue of now having two members of staff managed to escape to a tiny but pleasingly isolated room coincidentally next door to the original old woman's bedroom.

But soon the room was needed to store a bundle of sticks or some rubble or something, so last surviving mighty being Sue, Queen Of Art Eds was given a desk in the corner of Amiga Format, to be joined erratically by Steve Faragher as freelance Ed, and, minus what Sue managed to carry with her, the entire contents of the final office - mags, manuals, games, photographs, twenty copies of unsold mail-order Mortal Kombat we were going to give away as one prize or hand in at the Games Exchange in an attempt to get the game to number five in the pitifully non-selling Amiga charts, letters, funny things readers did we liked, the lot - were destroyed.

Soon after, the office which AP went to war over was similarly razed, but at least there was enough warning to rescue the AP Sledgehammer, Cam's spaceship and triceratops models, a box of AP65s and a Kennedy-on-a-Stick. And, of course, our fond memories of the mightiest computer games magazine ever conceived by human beings, except we were then all brutally slain.

But at least we didn't end up on 36 pages.