So you try to introduce the game to your flatmate, your girlfriend, your boyfriend. But they’re wary and intimidated. From their perspective, even the joypad is daunting. To you it’s as warm and familiar as a third hand. To them it’s the control panel for an alien helicopter.

But you persevere, press the pad into their unenthusiastic hands, and offer to talk them through a few minutes of play. And almost immediately you have to bite your tongue to avoid screaming. They run into walls or hit pause by mistake. They swing the camera around until they can see nothing but their own feet, then forward-roll under a lorry. They try to put the controller down, complaining that they’re “no good at this”. You force them to have another go, but within minutes you’re behaving like a bad backseat driver.

“You’re in crouch mode,” you sigh, as their character waddles comically up the street. “Take it out of crouch mode.” Instead they throw a grenade at their own feet, killing themselves and several bystanders. They moan that it’s too hard. You force them to try again. Their character respawns. They run against a nearby door and jab at the buttons. “You can’t open that door,” you offer helpfully. “Why not?” they ask, “I opened another one a minute ago.” “That one’s just scenery,” you sigh. “How do you know?” they say, jabbing all the buttons again. “It just is. Stop it.” “Maybe it’ll open in a moment,” they suggest, jabbing. “It won’t.”

But they stay there, running against the door. And then, apparently just to annoy you, they start spinning the camera round and round and in and out, going “wheeee!” as they do so. And then they blow themselves up with another grenade, say they can’t see the appeal, drop the controller, and leave you sitting there alone, impotent and furious.