Ladies and gentlemen, we've kept you in the dark for weeks. Our mysterious agents have crossed the globe, organising a tournament of mortal combat - and at long last, a new editor has emerged victorious. I'm happy to announce that man is Mark Serrels. And he'll be starting here on October 11. In order to get to know your new editor better, we've included an epic bio, which may or may not have happened.
There isn't much room for love in the dank, perpetually wet slums of Glasgow. Which is why when we stand next to Mark Serrels and catch him looking longingly, unfocused into the distance, we tease him. Scots, after all, are funny.
Perhaps it's the endless rain and gloom of the place that turns would-be engineers, doctors and lawyers into achievement obsessives and frag fiends. Perhaps our Serrels managed to turn his method of escape into a career.
But I digress - let's start at the beginning. Mr (or Doctor, if you count voodoo) Mark Serrels was born into a family of wealth. His mother, a money lender, was cruel to most. But she hadn't reckoned on the charms of a certain haggis salesman, and the two set out to conquer Scotland's commerce system with their love.
Haggis was trading well at the time. Before long, the Serrels had set up one of the largest properties in town. At roughly 8sqm, it was the envy of even the mayor.
But despite their success, the Serrels clan couldn't afford fancy Nintendo systems, or even a D&D rulebook. They had to make up their own games. It was clear that first-born Mark had keen insight into game design with the second edition of his masterpiece, Carry the Log.
Selling the family Haggis empire was the only way to let young Mark, clearly a prodigy, flourish. But his first game wasn't exactly on every young boy's most wanted list: Barbie Horse Adventures was all the family could afford.
That didn't stop him though, as he quickly rose through the ranks of Glasgows passionate, competitive Horse Adventures scene. Here he is after winning his first championship with an entirely new method of pony grooming, later described as a "game changer":
Many know about the Starcraft craze in South Korea, but not many know about the legions of fans one picks up in Japan when playing Mark's next subject of mastery: Cho Aniki.
"I can't describe it," said Mark at the time. "I just feel drawn to the game. As if it knows me better than I know myself. I push the buttons, but really, the game pushes my buttons."
Mark's massive male fan club, to this day, sends him endless packages of cupcakes modelled after their idol, which he promptly forwards to his 20-something brothers and sisters in Glasgow. Not so they can eat it - just to show off.
But alas, even the best Cho Aniki players suffer from a slow in reaction speeds eventually, and Mark felt the need for a bigger challenge. He decided to tackle the game of life.
Part One of his conquest involved identifying a paradise with golden beaches and quality beer. That place was Australia.
Part Two involved playing games for a living. He walked up to the editor of Official PlayStation Magazine one day, out of the blue, and simply asked for a job. Thinking he was Simon Pegg, the editor obliged.
But one last hurdle remains. During Serrels' time among the Watuchi tribe of South Africa, attempting a forbidden voodoo ritual to get Scotland into the World Cup, he inadvertently bestowed upon himself the ability to grow backwards in time. Like Merlin - or for the less educated, Benjamin Button.
Until a cure for this curious case is found, my duties as Acting Editor will include burping, and nappy changes. I will perform them with pride.
Our following post will be an interview with your new Kotaku AU editor. If this were TV, I'd say "stay tuned". But it's not. So instead I'll say, "Are you going to eat that?"