Every now and then, it becomes necessary to lock friends and
family in the cellar.
God knows I've done it too many times to remember.
In fact, I spent much of the past two weeks locked in a
cellar myself, following an amusing mix-up involving a
lawnmower repair man, a congress member of the World Bridge
Federation, and a Charles Dickens look-alike.
It made for a funny story at the weekend round of cocktail
parties, but it meant last week's column didn't get to the
post office in time.
And plenty has been happening - much of it relating to
locking people in cellars.
Two weeks ago, I brought you the news of Coronation
Street's cellar-locking debacle.
Little has changed since: Chesney and Charlotte's parents are
still below ground level, though at least they are untied. I
wish I could say the same about the Charles Dickens
look-alike, though he did bring it upon himself.
But I digress.
Since the latest Coronation Street storyline, locking
people in cellars has become the activity du jour on soaps.
Zac Smith (Mike Edward) in Shortland Street has got,
like, totally into it.
Unlike 99% of characters on Shortland Street, Zac is
not a brilliant surgeon. He began as a builder on the show
almost 20 years ago, and is now a nurse.
He is also a very, very bad man.
Zac could best be described as a love-rat with an
increasingly obvious penchant for extreme villainy.
He clearly spends far too much time in the gymnasium doing
the Charles Atlas course for 97-pound weaklings.
Incidentally, Charles Atlas was born Angelo Siciliano. He
took the name ''Atlas'' after a friend told him he resembled
the statue of Atlas on top of a hotel in Coney Island.
He legally changed his name in 1922. True story.
And to think; they used to call him ''Skinny''!
Anyway, before Christmas, Zac sexually assaulted
Then he drugged Roimata's beau, Dr T. K. Samuels (Benjamin
Then he kidnapped Roimata, bound and gagged her, and locked
her in ... a cellar! Who can forget Roimata's first
appearance - on January 26, 2011, if my memory serves me well
- when she breezed on to the screen with the classic line
''Kia Ora, I'm from the bureau''.
Surprisingly, the long running, disturbingly watchable soap
that TV2 runs five nights a week ended on Friday with the
It was almost as if somebody did that on purpose to make you
want to watch the outcome the following Monday.
Coincidence? There's no way of knowing.
But know this - under television soap rules, Zac Smith's
uppance must come.
It may have already happened.