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Forgive me, Alice Frives, and it's been at least 20 years since my last confession.

My child, what troubles you?

I've been learning about Mary Whitehouse, and it turns out that I'm a filthy sinner. I'm a glutton.

I can't stop eating crisps, and I try and ration it.

I'll decant some of a sharebag of chili-heat-waive Doritos into a little bowl to just only have a bit,

and then I just decant the whole thing anyway.

It's pointless having the bowl. I might as well just tip it all into my mouth, and I can't be stopped.

15 Hail Mary's, and four our fathers, and the Lord will forgive you.

Thank you. You are a real priest, right?

October 1976, Birmingham.

Mary fidgets in her seat as the Tanoi announces the train has reached its final stop.

Birmingham New Street.

She takes a moment to look out of the window and take in the busy throng of the station concourse.

After all these years, she still gets nervous when attending speaking engagements.

As she nears the ticket station, she's heartened to see a smiling crowd of teenagers waiting

to welcome her on the platform. Their students from the local Bible College.

She and Ernest have come here to explain how they can help with Mary's ongoing campaign

against the moral decay of Great Britain. She feels a particular sense of pride in shaping

these impressionable young minds. Walking through the station, she can't resist leading them into

WH Smith, where she proudly picks up that morning's edition of The Daily Mail. Turning to page 5,

Mary shows them a story about her battle against pornography being sold in news agents like this.

...