What took you so long, Bond? I asked you to meet me here, with the nuclear codes I politely requested, in good time. Instead, you've turned up right as I'm about to give this presentation on said codes, meaning I've had no time to grill you about them as part of my prep. You're right, you owe me nothing and at least you're here now. I'll order your signature tippl-wait, what's that you've got there? A box? What's in the box, Bond? This is what delayed you, is it? Ok, I'll take a look inside, if you insist.

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeegggggggggghhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh.

You didn't tell me that your game, 007 First Light, presented these sorts of horrifying dilemmas! Seven watches, all laid out in a perfectly product-placed row. I need to pick a colour for the strap. This should be easy. It isn't.

Am I a Burgundy Vale man? Is Dawn Grey a more fitting hue? Should I go for Navy Blue as a salute to the armed forces? Winter Grey to be more at home in colder climes? Ember Grey, because clearly the most evocatively named of the greys must be the best? Midnight Maroon to mesh with my stealthiness? Or Emerald Green to mirror the British racing green paintjob I'm sure at least one of my Astons is decked out in?

I can't choose! I want them all! I want to take them all one by one, gently slide my wrist into their straps, feel their leathery skin against mine. I want to breathe in and out as they rhythmically tick away, our cadences coming together as one. I want to set an alarm and wake in the morning to their dulcet chorus. Then, I'll slip off to see the next one. I can't be limited to just a single watch. They all deserve a bit of my love, and I the unique distractions they all offer from the dangerous life of espionage.

They'll understand. I'm not a chauvinistic pig. I'm the world's luckiest expensive watch wanker, and 007 First Light is the stuff of my dreams. My shirt is ironed, the word ma'am is cocked and loaded in my throat, I know all of the words to God Save the King. I'm an establishment spook, and my hands move as my watch's hands move across its face. I spit on any poor who'd read the time off their phone or some other ghastly digital display.

I'm still in the midst of my review playthrough of 007 First Light, probably because I spent three hours early on agonising over which watch to pick. None of their colours, as far as I can tell, offer any tangible gameplay advantages.