After the failure of the Stormbreaker, I decided to make my own product. Usually it would be all over the market. Usually the shops couldn’t get them on the shelves quick enough. But not this time. When it just wouldn’t take off, I didn’t know what to do. I modified it. I did everything that was possible, but it never worked. One dull, dreary day I was in my office on Liverpool Street when a small man with black hair and tinted glasses walked through the glass door. There in front of me stood my worst nightmare: Herod Sayle.