Talkie gets into the celebrity gossip with TV host Blaize Falconburger.

Name:	Blaize Falconburger
Occupation:	TV presenter
Qualifications:	Sleeping with the producer
Distinguishing Marks:	Love-bite scar on inner thigh from undisclosed movie actor
Captain's Notes:	"And now the show that shows the stairway to the stars! He-e-e-e-re's Blaize!" Martha, pass the remote, it's started! Do we have any of that popcorn left?

Hey Blaize, would you like some toast?

What kinda toast?

Erm... well, the bread-y kind.

What varieties do you have?

Oh I see - white or brown?

That's it?

I might have some wholemeal around here somewhere...

I was thinking like maybe I'd get something made from imported Patagonian flour, maybe with royal jelly squeezed from an Ionian bee?

Oh.

Not gonna happen, huh?

Not really. How about a waffle? Or will that have to be flown in from Belgium?

Pretty much.

I see you've picked up some things from the people you interview on your show - Lifestyles of the Disgustingly Rich and Famous.

Well, darling, you can't walk in that world and not play the game a bit. When I started out, I used to show up on location in my own car! Can you imagine? I was driving and everything - such an embarrassment.

As you move up, though, you realise how foolish you've been, and how things should be done. These days I don't appear for so much as a Q & A without a PA, image consultant, chauffeur, costume fitter, make-up artist, hair stylist, mirror polisher, dog walker, dog groomer, pooper scooper, phone answerer...

That's quite a collection!

And of course they each have assistants. All in aid of making sure we get to broadcast the best programme possible, exposing the idiotic extravagances of the disgustingly rich and famous.

And not a hint of irony...

Oh, I have an irony consultant, too. Irony's very 'in' this season.

Of course, the reason we're talking today is because of your report on Dave 'Tension Sheet' Lister. What did you make of the self-made millionaire?

Ah yes - the man with a wad so thick he could use it to beat whales to death. Now that really is the kinda cash that can open anybody's legs.

Okay - and apart from recycling the script to your TV show...?

Interesting guy. Nouveau-riche. Puts those old Osbourne re-runs to shame. What this guy doesn't know about vulgar spending isn't worth knowing. I heard a story that he secretly bought one of the big movie studios just to prevent them re-releasing Ishtar.

He's also kinda anti-fashion. Well, actually, 'Anti-Fashion' was trademarked a few years ago by one of the labels - it's the label for people who aren't into labels. So I guess Dave Lister's kinda anti-anti-fashion, or something. He follows the beat of his own drummer - it's just that his drummer seems to be stuck playing a 70s prog-rock solo.

What impressed you most about his home?

The size of it. I don't care what anyone says - it matters. Anyone who says size is irrelevant hasn't run out of bridge half-way across a river.

Is it the most impressive place you've ever visited?

Hell, no. I've been all over the solar system reporting for Lifestyles and mingling with celebs in their natural environments. One rock star - modesty and a binding non-disclosure contract forbid me from revealing his name - had ensconced himself in a virtual home. He lived in AR, never came out except to tour.

So while from the outside it may have looked like he lived in a rat-infested flat on a Venusian moon, so far as he was concerned he was wandering the vast halls of his gold-encrusted multi-mansion with its own gym, swimming pools and private international airport.

Sounds incredible!

Trouble was, like any big house, it had problems. And if he got a leaky roof or a spot of subsidence, it still took months to get the programmers to fix the problem.

Plus... well, you can imagine the problems of relying on a computer system. When I jacked-in to visit him, he tried to take me to the fifth lounge and found it had corrupted. All the furniture was on the ceiling and the fireplace was squirting water.

That must have been the weirdest place you've been.

Nope. Harold Misenburger, the condom king, had every single item in his house covered in prophylactic material - that was pretty weird. He was paranoid about disease - but you kind of got used to changing TV channels with a sheathed remote. Problem was they were on everything - taps, shower heads, hose-pipes. One day all those puppies are gonna burst at once and flood him out.

Lovely. How about a toasted bagel?

Only if you have some yak's-milk cheese and a couple of organic Venezuelan lettuce leaves.

You know, I think I forgot to pick any up... How about you let me in on some celebrity gossip?

Well, there are a few interesting nuggets. That newsreader on Groovy channel 27, for example - that's not her real hair colour.

It's not her real hair - she's a hologram!

Oh, right. And here was me all into that eating-disorder rumour 'cos the caterers never see her eat anything. Damn.

Anything else?

Bing Baxter, the game show host, is addicted to hamsters. Not sexually, I mean to eat. Can't get enough of them.

They'd be good on toast. Anything else?

The London Jets manager? He had those sparky-white teeth forcibly removed one-by-one from a young Mexican boy and then inserted into his own mouth. Apparently he's still troubled by nightmares and wakes up with the flavour of tacos in his mouth.

Revolting, but not exactly thrilling. Don't you know any interesting gossip?

Well, I do know about a certain celebrity toaster who has a secret allergy to wheat...

Thank you, Blaize. One final question - would you like some toast?