Some things are too serious not to be laughed at. Them wokeys are top of the list. So much so that here at Woods Towers I have invented a delightful PG-rated parlour game guaranteed to amuse, entertain and, once you get the hang of it, quite possibly have you snorting tea down your nose.

The basic premise is this: every time someone – in this instance, Michael Buerk – warns how them wokeys are undermining the integrity of, say, The Moral Maze, I recite something along these lines: “What do you call an entitled young person with an over-exaggerated sense of social injustice who is having a bath?” The answer is a soaky-wokey.

There’s more. “What do you call an entitled young person with an over-exaggerated sense of social injustice who listens to Mumford & Sons?” A folky wokey.

See what I mean? I’m particularly proud of: “What do you call an entitled young person with an over-exaggerated sense of social injustice who enjoys the nostalgia of East End music hall entertainment? Why, a hokey-cokey wokey, of course.

An entitled young person with an over-exaggerated sense of social injustice who appreciates the literary merits of one long or stressed syllable followed by one short or unstressed syllable?” Trochee wokey. (Bit niche? Educate yourself.)

It’s quite addictive and, despite my parlour sales pitch, great for car journeys. What do you call an entitled young person with an over-exaggerated sense of social injustice who likes their eggs sunny side up? That would be a yolky wokey.

An entitled young person with an over-exaggerated sense of social injustice with a frog in their throat? Croaky wokey.

And finally (for now), what do you call a Conservative Prime Minister who is demonstrating an over-exaggerated sense of social liberalism due to his wife’s influence? A Carrie-wokey.

Thank you, thank you. I’m here all week; try the veal. It’s definitely the least wokey dish on the menu.