Stuff your chicken, Heston.

My early attempts at being a paparazza were thwarted this morning.

I was trying to capture a supermarket clear-up operation of unspeakable green goo (own-brand spinach soup?) which had been spilled (not by me - there are limits to what I'll do to get a shot).

The manager appeared from behind the cheese counter, and remonstrated with me. Apparently I needed written permission to take photos, and it was only through judicious use of fluttering eyelashes that I escaped, camera intactus.

The manager got off lightly - next time I'll bring my pals round for a sing-song.

So to avoid any legal injunctions, I have blanked out the face of the employee, and carefully removed any references which would give away the identity of the supermarket concerned.