After five months of relentless talent-show judging in Britain and America, I was looking forward to a night off tonight at Sir Ian Botham’s star-studded Bunbury annual fundraising bash for various charities, including Leukaemia Research.

‘If I see one more fat Elvis impersonator, I’m going to shoot myself,’ I told the great man as I sat down at his table at London’s Grosvenor Hotel. Two minutes later, the night’s compère Rory Bremner announced the first of the night’s many special guests… You’ve guessed it, a fat Elvis impersonator.

As he began murdering Don’t Be Cruel, Sir Ian leaned over: ‘Need a gun?’

Rory himself was still mourning the loss of his greatest ever professional tool (and I mean that in every sense of the word), President George W Bush.

‘He may have lost the Presidency,’ he sighed, ‘but I’ve lost eight minutes of my act.’

Around 10pm, Jeffrey Archer started the auction, and quickly announced a special prize of ‘a private dinner with Sir Ian Botham’. (This, as I can testify from considerable personal experience, can be a lengthy and dangerous ordeal.)

But before the bidding could start, another former England cricketer, Mike ‘Fat Gat’ Gatting, stood up and said he’d pay NOT to have dinner with Beefy. (This is believed to be the first time he’s rejected food in his life.) Archer fined him £500 for his ‘rudeness’, but was promptly bombarded with other guests at the event also offering £500 NOT to have dinner with Botham.

The room became like that scene from Monty Python’s Life Of Brian, where everyone at the crucifixion scene starts to shout: ‘I’m Brian!’

‘My liver doesn’t want dinner with him, I’m in for £500!’ shouted Freddie Flintoff.

‘I don’t want dinner with him,’ said Allan Lamb. ‘And neither does my wife – here’s £1,000!’

Eventually, even Beefy stood up and bid £500 to avoid eating with himself.

Within ten minutes, more than £10,000 had been pledged by guests desperate to avoid dining with England’s greatest-ever cricketer.

A mortal insult that I was only able to correct by bidding the same amount TO HAVE dinner with him. ‘Thank you, Morgan, about time you did something decent with your miserable life,’ he said, shaking my hand.

‘Think nothing of it,’ I replied. ‘I intend to drink double that amount in wine… and you’ll be paying the bill.’