esperately you grab the handle of the door. You almost wrench it off getting out of there but, to your relief, it opens. You stumble outside and run up the path as fast as you can, not even looking back. Then you get a brilliant idea. You keep running, all the way up to the house. You know exactly what you want, but because there are still unpacked boxes everywhere it takes a few minutes to find it. At last you have it in your hand: your mother’s video camera. You rush back down the path, hoping you’re not too late. There’s the car and yes, to your relief it’s still rocking and rolling, and that pink glow is as strong as ever.

You press ‘record’ on the camera and move up to the windscreen. You aim the camera. Through the viewfinder you see Stacey. She’s still swaying happily, lost in her love of Elvis. In the back seat there’s the King himself, belting through another song. It sounds like ‘Jailhouse Rock’. Now the car’s just about shaking itself apart. You’re getting some great footage. But twenty seconds later Elvis hits the final chord on the guitar, there’s a great explosion of white smoke and he disappears.

It doesn’t matter, though. When you check that twenty seconds of film you find it’s perfect. You send it to Channel 9 news. Within twenty-four hours it’s flashed around the world, to every TV channel on the planet. It’s the biggest news story of the year. Soon the tourists are flocking to your house. It becomes a shrine to Elvis, as big as Graceland, even bigger. You and Stacey and both your families work full-time running it. Elvis never returns, but what do you care? You’ve become incredibly rich, famous, and you don’t even have to go to school! What more could life possibly offer?!