The Windowsill Of Death

Somewhere, out there, in a land far, far away (actually, it's just at the bottom of the East Wing staircase) lies a battlefield strewn with the debris of Mother Nature's battles.

Amidst this barren landscape can be found the titans of insect aviation and the sedate languishers of our precious scenery.

It is a cold, heartless world; a place of desolation and despair (well, for the insects at least), where only the most nimble of vacuum cleaners dares go on its clean-up mission.

This is the Windowsill Of Death.