Top PR agency boss, Dominic Hiatt, was today found pissed out of his mind, and staring into space, in The Moon & Stars, Penge — with a nifty stuck to his forehead.
The soulless Wetherspoons boozer is well-known among London’s communications professionals, who go there to drink themselves to death when it strikes them, generally during a team breakfast, that the life they lead is one big lie.
And if they don’t die from catastrophic liver failure at the bar, the cream of the UK’s PR professionals almost certainly get mugged by the locals, who easily pick them off as they stagger to the taxi rank, trousers round their ankles, singing Jolene.
Legend has it that journalists even hang around outside The Moon at kicking-out time, just to watch their arch enemies get their heads caved in by the men of Penge — a twitchy horde, with short arms and hands like dustbin lids. Some even join in (once the softening-up has been done).
But I digress, dear reader.
Exactly why was our PR hero, the man behind Just In Time PR — the only PR agency ever to speak the truth — playing roulette with his liver and sanity in a dive like Penge?
Because he had had an epiphany, that’s why. It had struck him earlier that afternoon, during a conference call with the US, that he is alone in the world of public relations — a shadowy loner in the mould of Michael Knight.
Hiatt now knew that, like Michael, his was a crusade to champion the cause of the innocent, the helpless, the powerless, in a world of criminals who operate above the law.
But unlike Michael, who was funded by the Knight Foundation, a philanthropic organisation owned by billionaire Wilton Knight, Hiatt would have no such luxury.
As a result, he will have to charge £1,000+Vat a day excluding disbursements for services rendered in the name of truth.
His mission is to start tomorrow, almost certainly with a cataclysmic hangover and, if he’s lucky, some teeth.