But it’s just not fair, whined Michael Fish,
staring into his cup of tea.
We all get hate mail, Fishy, said Sir Trevor McDonald dismissively
as he slurped his raspberry and cherry Slush Puppy.
Moira Stuart nodded and ordered her
second Twister ice lolly.
But they’re blaming me for this heat wave, Michael moaned.
It makes no sense! One said:
‘this is your biggest cock up since the Great Storm of ’87.’
Another called me a ‘boring, bald bastard’.
What should I do?
I dunno, scoffed Sir Trevor. I guess you could always grow a pair?
Moira Stuart high-fived the Knight of the realm
as Michael’s chin began to quiver.
NEWS JUST IN! exclaimed Sir Trevor.
Semi-retired meteorologist has no back bone…
And now for the weather.
Moira Stuart cackled as Michael openly wept;
his tears finally putting an end to the
© Carl Burkitt 2013