The near normal calm of 'The Plant' was shattered earlier by an unexpected arrival. Local media tycoon and poodle breeder, Meg La Maniac plonk'd herself down on our airstrip. Meg is the Daughter of the late Herman La Maniac, a reclusive Bavarian Aristocrat and billionaire.Meg is always dressed in the latest and most expensive fashion, she is reputed to wear only Katy Price lingerie.Fearful of exploitation, she wears underwear only once and then has it incinerated, for fear her 'aroma' will end up on some Japanese 'speciality' web site. Accompanied by her Russian pilot Aisinda Skya and her ever present bodyguard 'Grock', she'd got wind of something 'big' happening at 'The Plant'. Ratings have taken a plunge since Meg's last 'BIG news story'....The discovery of the remains of a Bf-109, in the cesspit of Saint Ralph the Blasphemers Church in Snotting on the Wold, the remains included shaky castor wheels from an ASDA trolley. Meg immediately ran her expose of Wal-Marts collusion with Adolph Hitler...when it was pointed out the remains were from 'Tailspins' soapbox racer, Meg was forced into a grovelling apology. In an attempt to regain some credibility, Meg manipulated a flirtation between 'Tailspin' and her worldly pilot Aisinda, 'Tailspin' fell hook, line and g-string. During an Absinthe fuel'd game of Scrabble he inadvertently let something slip, worse still it was a triple word score. Meg was acting cool as she strode purposely towards the old De Havilland hanger. " I see you still have Daddy's old car" she said, pointing to the huge black Mercedes Staffcar." Why don't we have a look in this hanger......while we here"? I was ready for that, "By all means, there's not much in there mind, when WWII broke out De Havilland were better known for bi-planes. This place was turned over to the Ministry of Works, it produced nothing more dangerous than those shapeless brown overalls for land army girls". Meg stopped in her tracks, the colour draining from her face as she tried to shake off the mental image of those hideous garments. Making a sharp 90 degree turn she spotted my Ferrari, "ooooh, whats over here"? she enquired, and set off with a purpose. Suddenly the afternoon quiet was split by an ear shattering wail. "What the hell was that"? asked Meg.. "Clocking off time", I replied, " all the staff will be out in a minute, I'm sure they'll be eager to meet you", I added. That was enough, the thought of having to mingle with 'common' people had Meg and entourage dashing for the chopper. "I'll call again soon, urgent appointment, we must do lunch", Meg called over her shoulder. The helicopter vanished over the trees, leaving the secret of the De Havilland hanger intact. In light of todays events, I've decided to 'let the cat out of the bag', in my next post...