Julian Assange ate my Hamster.

Of all the clichés I expected to hear in this job, ‘stop the press’ was not one of them. There I was, writing up yet another bonny baby competition when Bill, our permanently agitated deputy editor, ran past my desk and shouted that immortal phrase you only ever hear in the movies. Naturally, I put down my pen, got out of my swivel chair, and caught up with him.

‘Bill, what’s the problem now? Look, if it’s the missing page numbers, I’m pretty sure nobody reads those anyway…’

He stares at me incredulously as if I’ve just told him I was abducted by a tribe intent on making me their king.

‘Oh, no, it’s not the numbers, Sam. Dear God, I wish that it was. No, what’s wrong is the headline.’

‘The headline? Come on, what’s  the matter with it?’

He thrusts a warm copy of our latest edition into my hands.

‘See for yourself.’

I look down and the first thing I see is the headline:

JULIAN ASSANGE ATE MY HAMSTER.

Bill’s now staring at me for a response. Clearly he wants me to agree that this is a major issue that should be rectified immediately.

‘Well?’

‘Uh, yeah, I see what you mean. Something must be wrong.’

He looks satisfied. I continue.

‘I mean, usually we put the pet consuming stories before the funny pages, right?'

He looks exasperated. Result.

‘Nooo…’, he snatches the paper back from me, ‘if you’re not going to take this seriously, I’m going to find someone who will.’

‘Ah, I think I can help you on that front, Billy boy.’

‘Oh really?’

‘Yeah. Talk to Freddie Starr. He’ll want to know that Assange is muscling in on his schtick.’

Bill throws his hands up in the air, just about restrains himself from hitting me round the back of the head with the newspaper, and storms off. I laugh and return to my desk. Putting aside the beautiful baby piece for a moment, I get to work on my next headline: VLADIMIR PUTIN ANNOUNCED AS X FACTOR JUDGE.

Man, I can’t wait to see Bill’s face.