The Short Fuse used to be one of those kids that had a temper tantrum in the playground when they didn't get their own way. Sometimes they'd get so cross they'd wet their pants in assembly. Their blood boils at the slightest thing and they find it hard to contain themselves. If their true personality was allowed to show itself they would punch people regularly or smash up the things that conspire against them - cars that break down, machines that fail, people who don't return calls or answer their emails. An ambition is to throw their laptop out of a train window one day when the internet has failed to load quickly enough. They're useless at poker or liars dice or anything where it's prudent to hide your feelings. Everything shows in their face.

When they go through emails on their phone, they'll shake their head and tut at the stupidity of someone's reply before triumphantly hitting the delete button. When they read the paper they'll sigh and exhale loudly at the latest murder or downturn in the economy. A lot of it's due to the EU in his view. Bloody French farmers, Italian corruption, the Greeks endemic laziness and subsidies to Eastern Europe. He's quite keen on the UKIP party until that leader bloke tried to get news attention by hitching a lift in a flimsy plane that took a nosedive. Couldn't he just go around kissing babies on the election trail like everyone else? At least we still have British pounds and pence.

The Short Fuse has been commuting for so long, he's memorised the minutiae of the train timetable. He can therefore authoritatively quote the exact departure and arrival time of his train. This allows him to chunter away to no one in particular every time it's late. As in:

"Three minutes late today and nineteen minutes late on Tuesday. It's a disgrace. But what do you expect when they insist on using the Class 450 Desiro trains when they haven't converted them to the 25 kilovolt AC overhead supply yet - none have been fitted with a pantograph you know? What are we paying for?"

It's widely believed by his travelling companions that this is a statement and not a question that needs an answer. Therefore everyone looks away and ignores him. If a train announcement indicates the journey will be delayed then he can really go into overdrive. He'll mutter very loudly about the cost of season tickets, how many meetings he's missed recently, how trains have been stopped by the wrong type of snow, leaves on the line and so on.

You get the feeling that if the Japanese were in charge and it all ran smoothly every day, he would be hugely disappointed and would have nothing to get angry about.

How to spot The Short Fuse
You could use your eyes to spot The Short Fuse's animated face, but you just have to listen. Lots of tutting, sighing and blowing out of cheeks. There'll be head shaking and raising of eyes skywards, but mostly it's the noise that will alert you, that and the underlying feeling of simmering resentment.

Survival tips
The Short Fuse doesn't fidget much, but the constant noise is very irritating and quite distracting. As usual the trusty earphones are a useful blocking out mechanism. However, if you like listening to a John Humphreys or Jeremy Paxman style argument, they'll quite often provide a bit of entertainment when the train manager comes to check tickets, especially if they're in a particularly irritable mood. With an ability to deliver a non-stop rant without taking breath, The Short Fuse will launch into a potted history of the trains lateness record since February 2004. Sit and watch the poor train company employee wither with boredom whilst trying to maintain a deferential but concerned look throughout.