‘From anyone else these accusations would prompt very serious questions, but unfortunately from Ms Mills they just make you roll your eyes, stick your fingers in your ears and go la, la, la,’ said Tory MP John Whittingdale, head of the media select committee. ‘We’re dealing here with a woman who, even if she told you herself that she only had the one leg, you’d still do a quick count to be on the safe side. She thinks veracity’s a fashion designer. How can we choose between them? It’s impossible – why couldn’t I be asked to decide on something simpler like whether to turn off someone’s life support machine?’

Fellow committee member Tom Watson MP agreed. ‘Christ, and then you’re left with the option of believing Piers Morgan – a guy who is rumoured to have given a false name during his wedding vows. If his pants were anymore aflame, you’d think Hell was having an open day.’

After discussing the matter for over nine gruelling hours on the day following Ms Mills’ allegations, the Committee was no closer to knowing who to believe. ‘You would imagine that coming from a world knee-deep in Nixons, Clintons, Aitkens and Archers this would be shit off a bull’s back,’ said MP Louise Mensch. ‘But this is probably the first time I’ve encountered two people capable of four-faced lying.’

Labour MP Jim Sheridan added it ‘would be immensely helpful to the work of the committee if both Morgan and Mills would agree to appear before MPs, and then on their way in, drive off a cliff.’

While the Committee’s deliberations continue, Ms Mills has made futher allegations claiming that while in Piers Morgan’s company he admitted he was a warlock and that she witnessed him drink the blood of kittens. In turn, Mr Morgan has sought to draw a line under the matter by arguing that while the alleged illegal hacking was taking place he was playing cards with close friends royal butler Paul Burrell and former Prime Minister Tony Blair. ‘If anyone doubted my word, there’s no way they’d doubt Paul’s and Tony’s,’ he said.

‘There was clearly a sticking point to any successful union between the two, and we never thought we could work with the leadership of the Telegraph, but Will Lewis has left, so that’s all hunky dory now,’ said a spokesman for the Guardian, ‘so we have entered into constructive dialogue to bring the strengths of each publication to the fore and produce a quality paper that reports in the best interests of the public.’

The changes will apply at a fundamental level: the Telegraph will continue its policy of providing tits and bums for the middle class, but the ‘Guardigraph’, as it will be known, will also now focus more on features and sketches railing against appalling injustice, ‘and we could see all of that that played out in front of our eyes if a full amalgamation of Quentin Letts and Jackie Ashley goes ahead as planned,’ the spokesman added, ‘although perhaps it’s too early to speculate on that.’

But there will also be the opportunity for both publications to retain some of their original identity with a small column on the inside back page advocating things like hunting while another will argue bitterly against any sort of nuclear deterrent but, the spokesman added; ‘they’ll be written in tiny type and separated by a huge advert for Boden, so I doubt if anyone will notice.’

Other changes are more cosmetic and may include a revision to the characters’ expression in Matt cartoons which hasn’t changed for fifteen years to make them appear more pained and thoughtful with extensive use of spectacles, in the hope that some older Guardian readers might now actually get the joke.

But the biggest bust-up appears to be in the crossword department where the fastidious compiler from the Telegraph is up in arms that the traditional equivalent in the Guardian allows any combination of letter in whatever order to produce an ‘inferred’ correct answer. ‘I know it doesn’t sound that important, but it’s one of those silly little things that could hamper progress for weeks,’ said everyone, ruefully.

In an unprecedented announcement, Culture Secretary Tessa Jowell released a statement saying:
‘The paper hardly ever has a misprint anymore. Not that it ever had that many anyway. And even if it did, referring to it by calling it The Grauniad stopped being funny round about 1972.’ Planned legislation suggests that there could be a £2000 fine for any man or women using this term (although government research suggests that no woman has ever said it).

John McBride, 58, of Stoke-on-Trent commented: ‘It’s a disgrace. I’ve been calling it The Grauniad for thirty years. My newsagent expects it. Admittedly he doesn’t laugh anymore but then I always put that down to his being from Bangladesh.’ Future bans being proposed following this ruling include anyone saying ‘Scuse I’ instead of ‘excuse me’, or any use, in any context, of the phrase ‘Easy tiger.’

A leader for The Guardian commented: ‘Everyone here agrees that it was high time this joke was laid to rset.’

david baddiel