And we're back in the room. I hope you had a splendid weekend. It is three minutes after 10.

I don't know whether this gets filed under stuff you don't care about, but I think you might

be mildly interested. But I'm going to mention it just in case things, uh, but progress during the

course of the program. There is a slim chance. I might lose the ability to speak during the next three hours.

I don't know whether you can tell already.

That's the only reason why I'm mentioning it is that I am perhaps already beeping on your radar as sounding a little bit croaky.

And the reason for that is, thankfully, not medical.

It's because I did a charity auction on Friday night that involved

bellowing at a volume I have never previously deployed outside of Agbara, the cathedral of football

in the town of Kidamindster. I have never shouted for so long, so loud as I had to on Friday

night in order to marshal the audience of the charity auction.

And I couldn't quite believe it when I woke up this morning, and I still wasn't quite right.

So if I do, Keith is going to take over.

I haven't told Keith yet, I tell you what, though, he just woke up.

If my voice does fail, we're going to swap jobs.

I will be pressing all the buttons, launching all the woke watch,

um, stings and, and rounds of applause

and what have you. And Keith will be coming in here to tell you what is what. Uh, four minutes

after tennis at the time. So it is important. I mean, lots of things. The more effort people put

into telling you that things aren't important,

particularly when it involves prime ministers, the more confident you can be that they are important. Do you remember when the mail was giving it? Don't they know there's a war on? Because

you were talking about a prime minister, breaking the laws that he had passed and insisted that

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