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London Tonight Tonight

Good afternoon.
Rowan Atkinson is one of my all-time favourite comics. He is clever, has a funny face and collects and drives fast cars. Apart from Blackadder, The Thin Blue Line and a range of parts in Richard Curtis films, he has also done Mr Bean, which I didn't take to, and a series of ads for a popular credit card, which I did. One of my favourite episodes in the credit card ouvre involved an expensive carpet catching fire though I can't quite remember why nor how. But I did laugh. The connection between credit cards and things getting burned connects well with our top story and, in this particular case, it involves fingers getting burned. Ian Clement was one of Boris' Deputy Mayors but isn't any more. He had a City Hall Credit card but doesn't any more. He was booked in one class to and from Beijing but didn't fly in that class. Boris laughed it off last week then laughed Ian off, and out of a job, this week. What has happened to make Ian's flexible friend his deadly enemy? Harris, who always pays cash, is checking the receipts.
Not a carpet but a whole house caught fire in Tooting, hospitalising a family of five. No humour here, at all. Four of them are seriously ill, the police forensic teams are crawling through the ashes looking for clues and arson is suspected. Lewis is among the men and women in white jump suits and has a line to A & E for the latest.
My own eldest son had a "thing" about big and unusual buildings when he was young - Battersea Power Station was a favourite but any gasometer was in with more than an even chance of grabbing and keeping his attention. He has been a life-long member of the "Keep Battersea Power Station As It Is, But Tidy It Up A Bit" brigade and cherishes his copy of Pink Floyd's "Animals" album. As for the gasometers, as under-ground lines from Morceambe Bay have replaced those odd recepticals of the product of burning coal, (other than the coke which was used to build some of Britain's motorways,) he remains agnostic: infact I don't think he's touched on the subject for years. So he probably won't be entering an architectural competition to tart one up, round Kings Cross way. Many, however, will and we'll bring some of their thoughts and arguments to you with the reliability that only gas can promise. Damien is the man with his head in the oven proving that North Sea Gas isn't poisonous, unlike its old municipal predecessor.
We take pride in pushing our Pride of Britain awards again so listen in, and be uplifted.
Lucy has found a pair of handsome Mexicans who, at the meeting, seemed to me to be at base camp 2 in the profile-building game rather than a-top the summit of international fame. I am assured, however, this is wrong - they know Brad Pitt and Kevin Costner. But given there is a popular internet game which proves we are all only seven connections away from Barack Obama, I remain open minded and slightly open mouthed. But gorgeous they are and successful there are. So if intrigue doesn't get you, lust and fascination might.
The fairer sex have had a good time of late on the field of dreams and Julie will celebrate it with some of the Wonderful Women of Wisden and some kids who are bowled over by it all.
Chrissie is at Wimbledon where millions have been spent but probably for no purpose, as things stand. She'll tell you why, in an acute way and in an obtuse way, as only she can.
Katie is running a little late - it has something to do with a purchase from John Lewis. My theory is she is running for Speaker of the House of Commons and is making her "why me" speech.
But if she fails and is Widdecombed by Bercow or Younged by Beckett, she'll be here. If not it will be "here, here" rather than here, if you see what I mean.
I think I do.

See you at six

Alastair and the ever Honourable Katie