IF YOU CUT ME OPEN you'd probably find "= (SUM(D3:D55))/12" written through me like "Blackpool" through rock. There are, as I always say, few problems known to man that cannot be solved with a spreadsheet. But even though I've been a fan of Microsoft Excel ever since... oh, I dunno, since I started using Lotus 1-2-3, I do know that it does have its limits (column IV and row 65536, in case you're wondering). So I was mightily impressed when we came across a finance function which made a more outrageous use of spreadsheets than even I could.

They joined the Blaminio "finance family" (the FD's idea – he's been on sensitivity awareness training or something) as a result of an acquisition. But I have a feeling they may not be around to join us for the departmental Christmas party... The "strategic purchase" (as FD labelled it) was done in double-quick time. Clearly, the work that went on before contracts were signed had only a fleeting acquaintance with the term "due diligence". FD made sure the accounts added up – but that was pretty much it. He only set off to see how they were actually produced, and on what systems, once we were already the proud owners.

Now, FD is pretty strict, in the usual run of things. He likes to see ledgers in good order. Sometimes he even checks to see how I get them looking so good. (Luckily he doesn't know spreadsheets the way I know spreadsheets. What the eye doesn't see...) However, after that initial look into their modus operandi, he freaked. The first I knew of the problem was when, barely able to speak, he called my mobile and told me to get down to new acquisition's office. (I'm actually thinking of installing a huge spotlight that can project a blue and grey "X" into the sky so he can call me wherever I am in the city – the Jockey Signal! Of course, I'd need a cape, a boyish assistant and a rocket-powered car, and none of those have an appropriate procurement code here at Blaminio...)

Turns out that FD had asked how they produced the monthly management accounts. He was told that they were driven off the general ledger. Asking to see the GL, he was told it was "just a little behind – pressure of work due to the merger, old boy". So he asked to see the latest reconciliation. It transpired that the GL hadn't been touched since the last year-end – a mere ten months ago.

No doubt keeping his hysteria under control, he eventually worked out that the accounts were produced off a bodged set of spreadsheets. The staff confessed that they could not really see the need for a GL and only updated on an annual basis to keep their auditors happy. They brought the balances out of the sub-ledgers (we're still not entirely clear how) and built the whole of the management accounts from a series of spreadsheets. The balance sheet barely moved – and when it did, they just plonked in a balancing figure. As long as the movement wasn't "too horrendous", as they put it, everyone was happy. I had to give them credit for their ambition. However, even I winced at the lack of any sort of controls or reconciliation. Sworn to secrecy over what FD is calling a "slight hiccup on minor systems issues" (at least in front of the rest of the board), I've been "tasked" with looking at every spreadsheet and every formula to see exactly where the mistakes are. Ugh.

I guess he's picked the right man for the job, though. I know where to look for these sorts of, er, "corrections". But FD also insists we do the job together. He's furiously looking at every set of management accounts since the year dot, while I plough through the spreadsheets. It's boring, so I've gone in for a lot of sighing and tutting and just-not-quite audible mutterings every time I find an error. He then leaps up and demands to know the worst. I recount all in mournful tones and he makes a note. Hey, maybe there's an upside: it could be the start of a beautiful relationship. At least I've forced him to promise I'll be on the due diligence team next time we do an acquisition.