As submitted to the Hard Sell column in the Guide section in the Saturday Guardian newspaper.

SOMERFIELD

There is a grand, venerable literary tradition known as "alternative history". Put simply, these novels are thought experiments defined by a high-concept 'what-if?' premise; what if Britain had beaten America in the War of Independence, what if Geoff Hurst's second goal hadn't crossed the line, and the daddy of them all:what if Hitler had won the War?

While Radio 4 have dabbled with the genre, it has been left to Somerfield to pioneer its use in TV commercials.

It's the year 2003 - as denoted by the slavish rendition of Busted haystack haircuts on the teenagers - and a typical Arian family are trouping around the downmarket suburban hellhole of Somerfield, and yet when the first impish scamp opens his charming stage school gob, a stream of estuary English burbles forth.

As the nightmarish proto-past unfolds, the viewer begins to look for subtle signs in the mise-en-scene, the better with which to clue us in on those little differences which the Reich regime has wrought. But no, there is no bratwurst aisle where the crisps used to be, no lederhosen-ed surly school leaver shop assistants, an certainly no sudden ruthless efficienct to the shopping experience.

It seems as though a benign dictatorship is in progress, where ice cream is half price and bog roll two-for-the-price-of-one. But in a twist worthy of M Night Shymalan, the horrible truth of the Fuhher's victorious legacy is revealed in the appaling non-joke ending: in just 50 years, they have expunged all traces of British humour.

The first ever H&G TV diary begins here:

8.08 Italy v France...loser goes home...hopefully the winner does too.

8.09 Timmy Ribery carried off. I, for one, as a fan of the ugly footballer, am disappointed.

8.11 How many dodgy penalties and decisions do the Italians get in major tournaments? Oh, and here comes Jean-Alain Boumsong, who was such a success at Newcastle.

8.14 Misses his fourth chance of the game...fumbling monkey.

8.15 Five chances in the game.

8.15.1 Severed horses head arrives in Tonis bed.

8: 17 Fellow commentator comments 'Sidney Govou, if he signed for Cardiif City I'd be devasted' and 'I hate the Italians'. The commentary box is awash with optimism and fellow Euro love.

8:18 Mark Lawrenson uses most soulful, disappointed sigh to emphasise the words 'woefull, just unbelievable' as Motson witters on with another pointless '1970's' statistic.

8:23 Free kick. Motson unable to pronounce 'Bouffant' in any other accent than 'Boooooofont'. Lawrenson clicks his teeth unhappily at the dialect difference.

8:25 A slight diversion of conversation has resulted in the most excellent agreement. That we are pleased that we are the very few who believe that cheese is always better than chocolate. Instantly we are setting up the Facebook group 'cheese is way better than chocolate'. The link will follow soon.

8:41 To alleviate the nonsense being talked about by Hanson and that wee little chippy one from Aston Villa the group is created. 'Cheese is way better than chocolate'. Join us now.

8.49 the whole bbc studio is miserable. they've a lovely foreign jolly, spend all day playing golf, and look like they're playing Who-The-Fuck-Just-Farted?

9:01 The football is back. The goal from the Dutch gives the Italians a huge chance but Benzema is flailing around, a small child desperate for his poorly analogised toy.

9:02 Commentary team taking a quick break due to arrival of wet Brie and wild boar slices. There will be no pieces of chocolate cake (for obvious reasons) and cups of tea like the usual Cricket Brian Johnston team in this box.

9:12 We've decided to avoid the Italian goal so we can play poker. And eat more wild boar. Unprofessional but certainly pleasant. And agreeable.

9.12 Will just mentioned Portuguese holding midfielder, Deco. He's my vote for Most-Likely-to-be-a-Waiter-Who-Flirts-with-Your Mum-On-Holiday Award.

9:30 It's official. The Italians have got to the ref. A corner to the French. No. An innocuous challenge by Henry. Yellow card. Shame on them.

9:37 Question. Which Italian player if handed a banjo and asked to hit a cows arse would not be able to hit it ?

9:38 Answer. If you need to read that you haven't read our general thesis on 'Toni, wonderprat'

9:39 Oh god let it stop. The BBC crew have excelled themsleves in dour commentary. OK, we know the British suck. We're disappointed as well. But your sunning yourself in warm temperatures doing nowt but look a bit sad. Stop being Emo. Cheer the f*ck up !

Here at H&G we've been a little tardy of late. Work and a few other commitments to the cause have left us a little short of time, but there's nothing like poor work to pull us back into the game.

However there's nothing even more like poor work that costs clients a fortune to really get our mouths foaming.

Reader, we present for your scrutiny, the latest National Insurance Savings ad.

3 months ago : After several failed tissue meetings, 'Agency' runs out of ideas

2 months ago : Late one night the bottom drawer of 'Celebrity' gets broken open.

Today : A Caruso like montage of clever Celebs expouds the joys of NIS.

Now don't get us wrong. We know people. And people sometimes like those nice men off the telly. They trust them a little more than offficial looking folk in white costs professing clinical trials. But we should credit them with the ability to spot phony, poorly scripted, bowel-slackeningly bad copy.

It's nothing short of the worst ever 'perfect day' take-off ever audaciously presented and then bought by any single client.

Good luck credit crunch.