In the dead of night while many people are still slumbering, a light switches on at 4.0 am. The Hairy Cornflake is awake and drinking a cup of tea made by his wife.
He sifts through mountains of your correspondence, recognising the cardboard cut-outs sent by one couple and the letters of some other regular contributors.
He is the sound of the breakfast show, your companion in the morning urging you gently to shake a leg, to brush your teeth and to get out to school or work on time.