A dozing man is roused from his slumber by a green, midget-sized Mexican wrestler, who ascends the bedroom cabinet like a corner turnbuckle and glides through the air to body-slam him right in the chest. Explain that you awoke in this manner to your friendly neighbourhood GP and expect to be prescribed a strong cocktail of drugs and spend an evening bound to a hospital bed in some sort of secure compound. Luckily, Benylin knows better. No, what you have just seen is merely the symptoms of a nasty ...