"I know Outlook's evil," writes Emma. "But what, exactly, will it do?"
It grows black tentacles and strangles your teddy bears while you sleep. It emits noxious odours which infest your clothing and cause your friends to sit on the other side of the pub from you. In its spare time, it takes over small European countries and establishes megalomaniacal dictatorships and secret police with mirrored sunglasses that function equally well at the dead of a moonless night. It listens to Black Sabbath albums backwards and develops paranoid tendencies which it expresses through the gratuitous mutilation of endangered mammals. It translates every fourth word of all your critical documents into Ancient Church Slavonic, and turns all your photographs into reproductions of LP cover art by Andy Warhol. It sends out anti-Semitic hate mail under your name to the Elders of Zion, and it pours treacle into your favourite slippers.
Truly, there is no abomination or foulness of which Outlook is not capable.
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