He had just entered the tower block's badly lit forecourt when he was halted in his tracks by a gang of youths gathered around the smouldering wreckage of a burnt out car. Keeping a safe distance, and praying they hadn't seen him, he manoeuvred himself behind some large cylindrical metal bins encircled by several plastic rubbish bags. He was utterly desperate now, and even if these hooligans were to absent themselves, he'd never make it to his Mistress's flat in time. With trembling hesitancy, he peered out from his hiding place, watching them in the murky twilight. There were around six or seven of them, although he wasn't really sure, as several seemed to flit in and out of the shadows. They were standing some distance, partially illuminated by a luminescent light just above Babel Point's entrance. He could clearly see two boys and a girl, although they didn't look dissimilar: loose-limbed gangly bodies bearing heads with low sloping brows, wide jaws, shorn hair in the case of the two boys, tightly bound with the girl. They communicated in an unintelligible dialect consisting mainly of grumbles and grunts, and although it was most likely English, it could just have easily been French or German or a myriad of other languages. The boys appeared to be competing in what can only be described as some sort of bizarre mating ritual intended to attract the girl, for every few minutes they would suddenly charge one another, their foreheads colliding with the most terrible knock. This impelled their female member to wild hysterics and to the midget's amazement, both lads seemed unharmed, their laughter almost ascending the screechy ear-splitting heights of the girl as they stumbled away from each other.

It was while watching this spectacle when Stig flooded his nappy, for he could retain no longer, instead he stood stock still and let the waves of relief roll over him, filling his Pampers like a baby, saturating them to capacity with the liquid they were built for, crouching down amongst the bulging fetid refuse bags and letting every last drop drip forth. He pictured those yobs coming over, looking up and seeing them towering before him, thrilled to have an actual midget in their midst. They'd give him a kicking for sure, planting their boots into his corduroys before whipping them off and exposing his Pampers. No doubt they'd be momentarily stunned by the wretched sight of him in his nappy, and, goaded on by such an insultingly pathetic spectacle, continue with their kicking, their feet beating back and forth with unremitting ferocity. Stig tired of this musing, eventually rising to his feet and peering round at the spot with the youths. Finally they had gone.