Morning.

You all right?

I trust you are, I hope that you are.

Me, yeah, I'm all right, I'm all right.

It has just ticked past, just that moment, or my clock anyway, just that instant, ticked past 8 a.m.

British summertime. On Wednesday, it's now Wednesday, the 1st of April, April Fool's Day, in the Eval Lord, 2026. As always, I am joined by my producer, little Harry, how are you this morning? Good, sir?

Morning, you're all good.

Cool, cool, cool. I could hear him that time. Great.

And you are, of course, the main event.

The glorious band, the chosen few.

My band of brothers and sisters, thank you for joining me.

Pardon me? For he who listens to my breakfast show this morning shall be my brother.

Be here near self vile, today shall gentle his condition, and men of England now abed shall

think themselves are cursed that they were not here.

Anyway, that's quite enough of that.

I didn't plan to say that. It just came out.

All right, should we just have a look at the corporate mainstream media what they're banging on about this morning.

All right, what have we got? What have we got?

That evil cabal of Fleet Street editors.

We want to tell you what is and isn't important.

All right, Trump tells UK to go get your own oil.

Hmm.

...