In between this morning's episodes of Balamory, Thomas the Tank Engine and The Wonder Pets, I managed to pick up that salaries and expenses details of the BBC's "top 100 executives" had just been published.
So I rushed to work to find out more. Or, to be frank, more on what my tiny friend and Jamie's godfather Wee John Fulton earns and claims.
Because John is a self-confessed BBC big cheese who, according to his own chat, brings in a rather large wedge each month.
But, when I came to examine the list of 100 names, guess whose moniker wasn't there?
Only Batsmallman himself.
Sensing an always welcome opportunity to take the p*ss out of someone who simply deserves to be treated poorly, I gave him a call.
"I thought you would at least have made it into the top 100," said I.
"Aw, but, you see," struggled he, "these people are the decision-makers. I'm more of a, well, facilitator."
Oh right.
So I made him an offer.
"Why don't you fax me your P60 or your last 12 payslips and I'll scan them in and put them up on my blog so BBC licence fee payers can see what you earn?"
"Urrm, no," came the response. What a shock.
But the offer remains. And if I find any stray payslips lying around his flat in Cardiff when I visit next weekend, do not be surprised if they suddenly appear here a few days later.
Failing that, I could submit a Freedom of Information request.
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