Today was THE day.
It will forever be remembered. Parents will tell their children about it. History books will trumpet it. World leaders will look to it for inspiration in moments of need. And Roberta might call off the dogs.
It was Family Business News Day. Official.
Ok, that wasn't STRICTLY the case. It was actually a day for features. But panic had been induced by the deadline placed on us by news editor Alex. So everyone completed their features for Will with frenetic pace, and used the subsequent time to make calls to anyone who would listen. Maybe talk to someone and find a story.
Who was to know where the trail would lead?
Our magazine news board soon grew to twice it size amid cries of "UP PAGE, UP PAGE, UP PAGE" - a new phrase introduced to us by Will for occasions when a magazine has too much material. Those cries soon died once writing the stories began. The masses of definite 200-word stories began to shrink to a paltry handful of 50-word stories.
Still, as I'm keen to regularly point out, if Anneka Rice can build a house for orphans in a matter of days then we can make tomorrow's deadline... maybe.
Elsewhere in the PMA House... we've been trading memories of Byker Grove, Debbie has decided to stalk someone on the other side of the Atlantic and Ricky has claimed his own office.
This just in: An unnamed source has arranged a delivery of crisps from a leading potato company.
It's a crazy, crazy world when you're a journalist.