An icy December night and Barnett, for it is he, is toiling at his desk, trying to think of a suitable subject for his column. There is a sudden moaning and rattling of chains from behind him and the lone candle placed on his computer monitor, again in flagrant disregard for Health and Safety regulations, gutters and is extinguished in a sudden wind.

The Ghost of Christmas Columnists: Oops, sorry. Too many mince pies.

Barnett turns to regard the solemn spirit, the fearsome phantom's newspaper ink-caked robes rustling like dry newsprint. Chained to the apparition's wrist is a huge, leather-bound ledger.

Barnett: I really must protest. You don't normally turn up until Christmas Eve or something. It's only December 18.

The Ghost: Don't blame me. Your newspaper isn't publishing on Christmas Day, which means you don't have to write a column next week. So I thought I'd better pop in now.

Barnett: So, to recap for new readers, I shall now make mention of the fact that you arrive every year to inform me whether or not I've been doing my job properly as a columnist, as per the notations in your book.

The Ghost: Which, I might add, is bound in the flayed skin of a reporter who misused the apostrophe. But, yes, a fair summation of events.

Barnett: Better get on with it then.

The Ghost: What, just like that? No preamble? No ruminations on the nature of Christmas? Not even a mince pie?

Barnett: It's a whole week to Christmas. And I'm not feeling particularly Christmassy yet. The tree only went up at the weekend. Why not just get the deed done so I can get back to writing my column?

The Ghost: Well, if you're going to be such an old Humbug, yes, let's. Hmm. Now. Oh, dear.

Barnett: What? What does the book say?

The Ghost: It's not good news, I'm afraid.

Barnett: What do you mean?

The Ghost: Well, according to my records there have been hardly any complaints worth mentioning this year.

Barnett (aghast): None?

The Ghost: Well, a few. The usual ones about you writing sixth-form drivel, and your mate Mr Lorriman accusing you of living in a fantasy world.

Barnett: That's a start, surely.

The Ghost: Oh, and there were two items brought to the attention of your colleague Mike Priestley for his feedback column. Curiously, both times he explained away your errors by saying that you are from Wigan.

Barnett: A fair defence.

The Ghost: Unlike your footy team.

Barnett: That's enough of that. Let's get to the final analysis.

The Ghost: The final analysis is that you simply haven't been ruffling enough feathers. You've even had people writing in to agree with you. You must be getting old.

Barnett: 38 next birthday.

The Ghost: See? Only old people say that. Anyway, try harder next year, and you'll be able to start early because your first column's on January 1. So don't drink too much the night before.

Barnett: Is that it, then?

The Ghost: Apart from you saying Merry Christmas.

Barnett: Well, sorry it's so early, but Merry Christmas, everybody.