Smartly dressed in my military uniform, I get started with the meeting. General Smith has brought an arms dealer to see us; he's been working on a fascinating new technology that automatically disarms opponents without hurting them. This sounds excellent and I'd love to see a demonstration. Mr Roberts, the arms dealer, agrees that he can demonstrate with me. I pick up a pen and tell him I can't wait to see him disarm me! He activates the machine, and - how disappointing - nothing happens. I begin to explain that we can't invest in anything that's so underdeveloped, but I suddenly realise something very strange is happening to my hands. I can't control them, and they seem determined to strip me of my clothes! First they try to unbutton my tunic, then they start plucking at my hem, pulling it up and revealing my stocking tops! I realise this must be something to do with the disarming device - it's activated the wrong thing. Can't you stop it? Or leave? I can't strip in front of two men like this, I'm a respectable officer and this isn't a peep show! Oh God, my hands are going for my slip; surely they're not going to pull it down from under my skirt? And OH MY GOD I'm unzipping my skirt!! Where will this end? Eventually, after much desperate fighting back against my out-of-control hands, I'm completely naked, and totally ashamed, desperately but unsuccessfully trying to hide behind my discarded clothes. Don't look! WHY ARE YOU STILL STARING? I should report you!