Believe me, anything can be recycled. Just look at my most recent telly offering. Discerning viewers will perhaps notice the slightest of resemblances between Hugh Gets Wasted and Hugh’s Fish Factory, which in turn was an artful homage to Hugh Runs with Chicks.
One thing that will never go to waste is my talent, born as it is of my moral integrity (greater than yours), my understanding of the food supply chain (ditto) and my humility (simply immense). But I also have superpowers.
As lone guardian of human decency I am now protected by a cloak of invisibility as I scour the skips of England, harvesting food that has been wasted and liberating it for consumption by the impecunious pierced. These turn out to be largely based in the North, which is good, since River Cottage is in the South.
The best bit about this is that I’m paid by the BBC to break the law, which must be some kind of mystical loophole in their editorial ethics. And of course you fund both the BBC and the police who aren’t nicking me for trespass, theft or aggravated smugness. It’s what I call a “closed loop system”.
OK, there’s the off-chance the food has been contaminated, recalled or declared unfit for consumption. Whatever. These people shop at Aldi and Lidl, where this is pretty much the norm.
I have another power not granted to muggles. As St Huge of Witteringstall I am allowed to enter private workplaces (Morrisons) and abuse the employees (a hapless spin doctor and their head of econutritionalsustainyness) without getting punched in the face. I can also harass customers at the tills and throw their shopping in the bin. Obviously having a camera crew in tow helps a bit here, but it’s mainly superpowers.
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