"Eat some of the crisps", said the rather too happy girl with the mic, "and tell the camera what you think. Be honest."
So I did. A great big cheek-bulging mouthful, trying, but failing to stop myself from spitting half-chewed lumps of deep-fried potato at the lens, I spoke my brains. "They're fookin' ace."
Obviously, I'm not going to get on the prime-time advertising slot. Not unless they do a Tourette's Syndrome special. I've been on TV before. It's grossly over-rated.