The time has come, the dark hath finally descended, a consuming dark we were unlikely to escape, especially given the Xbox 360's rather patchy reliability record...

Yes, dear reader, our launch Xbox 360 (MFR Date: 2005 - 11 - 24) yesterday abruptly shuffled off the hardware coil while hosting the opening levels of EA's Command & Conquer 3: Tiberium Wars. The signs were ominous indeed as death prepared to snuff out our next-gen enjoyment. First came a couple of unusual, never before seen game freezes. That's odd, we thought. Then a couple of out-of-character Dashboard crashes during reboot. Hmm, don't like the look of this, we whispered to ourselves. Then the dreaded red flashing 3-light ring of absolute and unavoidable hardware failure! Oh b*****ks, we whimpered weakly while slumping to our knees in abject horror.

Just like a mysterious lump on your nether regions, we turned away from the (clearly ex-Xbox 360) and decided to ignore the complete and utter collapse we'd just witnessed. We'd inspect it again in an hour or so, surely it would be magically fixed at that point - everyone knows that the medicine and Microsoft fairies of ignorance are related.

However, upon a later retry, the Dashboard refused to boot at all and all we have been greeted with on each successive power-up attempt are the infamous, Sith-like, flashing red lights. How cool is THAT going to look on the new all-black Elite?

So, off we toddled to the official Xbox 360 support Web sites in both the US and UK to dispatch a rather 'passionate' letter of complaint to dear Mr. Microsoft concerning our deceased console along with a rather fervent desire to have it repaired or replaced immediately (we also sent the mail off to the UKPRTeam and German Kunden e-mail addresses too... just for good measure, you understand).

A stock standard 'please phone us direct on the following number so we can rip yet more money from you via a protracted touch-tone selection system and an automated holding queue before actually speaking to you in person' e-mail came back to us about an hour later. We duly swallowed the prospect of fainting at the sight of next month's phone bill, and called.   

Enter Manfred, our helpful - if not somewhat hard to understand, and clearly bored - customer support agent who, while perhaps not in full command of the English language, managed to gather our console's Serial ID number before then authenticating the ownership and registration of our dearly departed next-gen friend and explaining what will happen from here on in.

So, the outcome of the phone call, at this early stage (which is what many of you will want to know) is as follows:

As our launch model is still under (a Microsoft-implemented extended) warranty until February of 2008, we are to receive a UPS packing label within three working days, which we are to then fill in and attach to a plain packing box (a.k.a. cardboard coffin, at one time supplied by Microsoft) with dead Xbox 360 placed securely inside.

We are then to call UPS to arrange for a pick-up appointment, at which point our slowly decaying chum will be shipped back to the grease monkeys at Microsoft in order to be repaired. Note: repaired, not replaced. We were very careful to ask Manfred to reiterate that point, and yes, our actual faulty console will be repaired and returned rather than merely replaced with another refurbished model (which is seemingly the usual procedure). There was no mention of offering us a new model at this point... and we'd have been ignorant fools to even suggest such a radical solution for a piece of monumentally expensive hardware so widely criticised by its consumer base as possibly the MOST unreliable games console in history.

No cables, hard drive, memory cards, controllers, flowers, personal effects or tributes, should be included in said box. Just the console.

And, once UPS has arrived to toss our beloved gaming machine nonchalantly into the back of a van, we can expect (expect, mark you), to receive our completely revitalised unit delivered back to our door in a maximum (maximum, mark you) of fifteen working days.

So, now we wait for the three-day arrival of our UPS label. Part 2 of what we are fairly certain will boil down to an absolute debacle of failed communication, shattered efficiency, and a general cast-iron display of mind-blowing incompetence - and not by us, for a change - will follow this coming Thursday. That's May 24. Mark your diary and be sure to check back.

(We've decided to air this process for the good of all Xbox 360 owners who have suffered, or are yet to suffer, the dreaded Red Ring of Death.)

Ed.