KEY POINTS:
The insufferable boss is a universal concept. For proof, look no further than the American version of hit comedy The Office. Brit comedy doesn't often travel well across the Atlantic. But a prat is indeed a prat by any other name.
Steve Carell has stepped up to the daunting task of filling Ricky Gervais' shoes, as Michael Scott, middle manager from hell, and made his own such immortal lines as "I'm a friend first, boss second and entertainer, third".
It's not as subtle a portrayal as David Brent, but that's in keeping with the cultural shift. He is louder and shinier than the tosser from Slough. But he has the same mix of pomposity and smarm, and the barely suppressed thrill of having his talents at last captured on camera. He's excruciating, in a more Hollywood kind of way.
Less convincing are the rest of the cast, who might yet warm to their characters. Rainn Wilson's Dwight Shrute is too over the top as the office psychopath and far more predictable than his Slough equivalent, the Gollum-like Gareth.
And this doesn't quite have that British feeling of drab claustrophobia and stoic acceptance of fate. It's hard to imagine Americans sitting suffering Michael Scott in silence. But, by all accounts, in the second episode, "Diversity Day", the show really hits its stride.
Meanwhile, on the local front, this week revealed that some secrets are so dark you wonder whether they ought ever to be exposed. There are certain crannies and crevices in our society that should remain hygienically sealed.
But then again, what would that leave Eating Media Lunch to delve into? The Jeremy Wells-hosted satire returns for a new season, taking fearless media irresponsibility to new levels.
First up, a "shocking shocker" of an expose into the world of "mascotry" for those who didn't even know that dressing up in big fake fur costumes and masquerading as big chickens or corporate logos has its own collective noun.
We found out that there are two main schools in this field. There are those deeply embittered by their experiences stuffed into claustrophobic suits of rubber and scratchy fake fur - these tend to be comedians or actors who have done it for a bit of cash. We met Eric the cellphone who let us know the pain of having kids punch his buttons in sensitive places.
All a far cry from Wells' upbeat intro to the item, "We love them [mascots] for their panto charm and cartoonesque extravagances". But then, we discover, there are those who love the animal suits a bit too much: or as Wells kindly called them, the "freaks and furverts".
One "Furry" was foolish enough to allow Wells into his home to ask such questions as, "If bestiality was legal, which animal would you like to have sex with?" To their credit, it seems "Furries", like fundamentalists everywhere, are not easily fazed. The red panda and raccoon-suit enthusiast told us, it all depended on whether the attractive red panda or raccoon in question was a "sentient being" or not.
Some things are better left repressed in the national psyche. Next up, it was time to leave the women everywhere stunned and gasping with the vox pop question: "Who would you rather sleep with, Murray Deaker or the Mad Butcher?" Do we deserve this? Like nuclear waste, some questions are too toxic to see the light of day.
In its own furverted way, EML is the adult version of Lemony Snicket: we watch although we have been warned time and time again, no good will possibly come of it.
