When you board the Medusa to set sail on the voyage of life, you have no idea which of the passengers and crew you will end up clinging to the life-raft with. Let alone who will subsequently be shot by officers, eaten by sharks, tossed overboard or shaved into jerky. Who are the final fifteen? Meet Marc Hundley, everybody's favourite shipwreck-mate: what better antidote to having your foot cannibalized by some Catweazle vagrant, than gazing across the disintegrating pontoon at Marc's beatific face, whistling Buffy Sainte-Marie and whittling birch twigs into ersatz pencils. On a diet of Virginia Woolf and ceaseless onanism. Marc Hundley. One-in-a-million. On the Tickler.