I like quizzes. Usually, I sit in front of the television gritting my teeth and gripping the sofa, then growling at the imbecile on screen who happens to have been stumped by some frivolous fact.

I'm not, however, one for trying out new things at the behest of junk mail. I'd seen the advertisements for QuizNiteBermuda in my e-mail inbox and reflexively deleted them without a second blink.

In the back of my mind, however, I wondered how well I'd do if I gave it a go. A grand prize of $1,000 doesn't sound bad to any cash-strapped student, and even if you don't win that you still stand a chance of winning 11 more prizes ranging down from $500 to $100.

At five dollars a game, it's not cheap. A twitching gambling addict could waste a lot of money on such a diversion. For some reason, I considered myself more stable.

So, during lunch hour, I closed my eyes and drowned out the ambient noise of the office. I prepared to fend off the worst this website (www.quiz.bm) had to offer.

The game is slightly limiting. It can only be played between noon and midnight each week on Wednesdays. Maybe this was an attempt by the proprietors to build up a tension among players as they wait for their chance to shine. Or it could just be a shortcoming of the software.

I bought three games for $15. My Scottish blood protests at the forking out of money generally. However, this one might have been worth it. Exams in scary offices are one thing, but computer quizzes are the playthings of children.

It took a while to load up. And I lost one of my game credits just because I happened to hit the back button on the Internet browser at the wrong moment. But I was ready when the questions finally came onto the screen and I launched into them with all the ferociousness of a ravenous wolf devouring a defenceless rodent.

The 21 multiple choice questions that appeared before me were split between general and Bermuda knowledge. The first question gave me pause. “What is the name of Hitler's personal train?” My mouth gaped open, my brain scrambling for a flash of inspiration. My fingers fumbled the mouse, wasting precious seconds, and finally I clicked.

Other general knowledge questions seemed easy. They ranged from geography to music, from films to science. Then came: “Who was Playboy's first cover girl?” Mmmm, let me think back to that time I was read soft-porn in the 1953. Doh! I'm wasting my dough on a silly parlour game.

That's when the Bermuda questions started. I'm no expert on this place, but I felt more secure stabbing at them. Maybe I don't know the name of the Postmaster General (shame on me!) but flailing thrusts at most of the questions gave me a lucky boost.

In the end I didn't do badly. I gaped incredulously at my best score of 31, out of a possible mark of 35. It's not just the score that counts though. It's the speed with which you manage to notch it up. More than three minutes for me.

I don't reckon I won any money, but it was fun. I'm just glad I can't do it too often. That grand prize whispers my name in the night. As Oscar Wilde said: “I can resist everything except temptation.”