Mel, you were saying at the beginning of this session that you're not feeling yourself and that you'd lost your fizz?

Yeah, that's right, doctor. I'm very flat. I'm fizzeless. Well, when was the last time you felt fizzy, fizzy, fizzy, fizzy, fizzy, fizzy, fizzy, fizzy. Oh, doc, well, it's all flooding back

It was a grey and rainy day

I'd left my umbrella in the tube

My fringe had plastered itself to my head

Like seaweed

And I staggered into a cafe

Dripping like a broken tap

And that's when

That's when I saw it shining

Just in my peripheral In the corner of my eye.

The tips jar?

No, Doc.

A small, perfectly formed, sweet, juicy, crunchy.

Ah, I think you might be referring to one of these.

Doc, I thought you've done it.

You've found my fizz.

Well then, Mel, I'm prescribing you one pink lady apple a day.

And your hour's up.

Add a packet to your shopping basket this week.

And your hour is up.

I'll grab a handful of sausages off the breakfast bar in the hotel and stick him in a pocket. And then during the day I'll take them out, blow the fluff off them and eat them as like, she thinks this is the most appalling. No, I'm fine with that. I do that with the hard-boiled eggs. If there's a hard-boiled egg on a hotel, you know, breakfast stall, they'll go in the pocket and some rolls. Okay, team, tools at the ready, get your Hiver's vests on and your emotional speeches in the back pocket.

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