I hate playing competitively; it's rubbish to achieve victory at the expense of someone else. So I asked for recommendations and picked the cheapest thing that looked reasonable.

Unravel Two is a little gem! It's a 2D platform puzzler dressed up in a 3D engine. You and your friend play little string creatures and have to work together to swing between points, lift objects, and pull each other over the lush scenery. It's the sort of physics-based game which could have been made for the 16-bit consoles of my childhood.

As befits a game this cheap and simple, it's fairly short. Once you've got the hang of the mechanics there are only a limited number of ways to solve each section. But it is great for shouting "No! Go left and pull!" or "We've got to time our jumps together" or "You stand on the button and I'll try swinging". It's also possible to temporarily switch to one-player mode - if one of you doesn't want to do the jumping puzzles, the other player can carry you.

Weirdly, the game is deeply portentous in a rather pointless manner. There's a story going on in the background about some kids who are either being abused, chased, or getting into trouble. It is utterly superfluous and detracts from the fun of the puzzles. Similarly, the level titles all have subtitles like "In which we find our way out of the sullen darkness and are redeemed." WTF? This is a silly game of string puppets - not every indie game needs to be "Life Is Strange"!

There's some replayability. You can see how quickly you can do the levels, there are some hidden collectables, and some extra challenge levels. Which, for £3.51 at time of writing is more than reasonable.

A good casual co-op game - just ignore the vague story playing out behind the action.

I needed to close down my business bank account. I hopped on to online banking, provided all my details, went through 2FA with a physical token, remembered my mother's maiden name and began searching the site.

There was no way to close the account.

Oh well, I guess I'll give them a call. After 30 minutes on hold I was told "The account closing team leave at 4pm, sorry." It was 5 past four. They'd successfully held me off!

I rang up the next day and asked to close my account. "You'll need to write us a letter!" came the stern reply. I wasn't sure how a letter would be sufficient proof. "Aha!" they said, "You must write it on headed paper!"

My business is fully online. I simply don't have headed paper. Who does? More to the point, I don't own a printer and I can't be bothered to wander to the post office to buy a single stamp.

"That's silly," I said. "What do your disabled customers do?"

"Errr... Write a letter...?"

"So, you're telling me that you expect your customers with mobility difficulties to painfully write you an physical letter and then hobble down to the post-box?"

"Well. Umm... They could.... Ask a carer for help?"

"Do you think this fulfils your obligations under the Equality Act to provide reasonable adjustments?"

"Let me speak to a manager."

I spent a few minutes perusing other banks' closure policies. HSBC let you do everything online. NatWest is by phone - or minicom if you can't talk.

"Right! On this occaision, we will let you send us an email."

"That's very generous of you. Does it need to be on headed email paper‽"

"No. The email address is F R E D dot ..."

"Hang on... is this your personal email address?"

"Yes. Fred dot Smith at cfs.coop"

"What's cfs.coop? There's no website there."

"It's just our email sir."

... So, I sent an email to this random person - at an address with seemingly no connection to my bank account. All it took was my name, address, and company number (all public information) and my bank details (on every invoice I've sent) - and my money was transferred to a new bank account.

Putting it right

Let people cancel their accounts online. It's that simple.

If your web security is good enough to let people transfer piles of money, or set up an account - it should be secure enough to let people close an account.

Putting it right, part 2

Co-op called me up to apologise. They recognise that their accessibility needs fell far short of what is expected of them. They offered to send me £25 by way of an apology. I told them to send it directly to the charity Scope.

"Oh! I don't think we can do that, sir. But we can post you a cheque."

Give me strength!

The most top-notch ones let me log on to their website, fill in a form, and all the address changes are made.

A few required me to ring up and speak to a human being, which was a little annoying, but not the end of the world.

Only one company insisted that I write them a letter. Co-Op Business Banking. Despite having a moderately competent website, they couldn't process a change of address online. Their phone staff were equally insistent that I buy a stamp, find a post box, and make one of their minimum-wage staff copy-type my details in manually.

Forget that noise. This is what I sent them.

Oh, and I copy-and-pasted a scan of my signature. Because that proves it's me. Right?

They didn't write back, but they did change my address. Which was nice.