Since I have decided to cover The Apprentice once that tiny man with salami fingers has returned, this interval is a retrospective on My Super Sweet 16.
Mainly because - and don't be coy - we can all relate. I mean who hasn't turned their face to the gold ceiling fan, tears streaming down flushed cheeks, and collapsed to the floor whilst their mother wails: "Don't give up hope! This will be ok, we will get you that hot air balloon entrance."
Mother is talking to a man on loudspeaker who says that things look bleak; there simply isn't a big enough landing strip nearby.
16-year-old stifles a sob and passes out heavily. It could easily be taken from the Sargents' video archive.
And the problems don't stop here. Cut to the party venue, and there is no air con. None at all.
"300 children are going to die tonight. Do you hear me? We are going to KILL 300 children." Mother is wise to the perils of dehydration.
Half an hour later and thank the lord, cool air begins to rush into the room.
The anticipation from partygoers is electric:
[Intense whisper] "I heard Beyonce is playin'."
"Melanie-Rose (or whoever) is going to look INCREDIBLE."
"If you're not coming to this party, I feel sorry for you."
As it happens, it is not Beyonce playing, but the equally hotly tipped Uncle Big. Uncle Big may be an uncle or an older lover, we're not sure. Either way, Uncle gets Melanie up on stage to join him in his very long t-shirt and thrust violently.
The crowd are going wild, collapsing in hysteria, and it takes me back once again to that similar scene on my special day in Zizzi's; young people sweating with excitement, rubbing themselves on chairs and ladling pizza base over their heads.
Next comes the gift. And Melanie is actually very happy with her sports car (unlike those sad ones who get the wrong colour) and says so whilst she grinds happily on a headlamp. It's just like when I was taken outside of Wetherspoons to receive my rhino cloaked in gold leaf.
It's all over. Melanie drives away very slowly while guests scream in ecstasy and hurl themselves on the bonnet. Mother is still fiddling anxiously with the air con lest she cause death by humidity.
Hats off to MTV, seriously - why Channel 4 always get the accolades for most hard hitting documentaries is beyond me.