Sex and Animals shoot goes tits up

Just had a call from an hysterical Amanda Murphy at Ricochet. They are currently filming a 12-part reality format for the Youth Channel involving pets, parents and sex therapists called My Pet Sexpest, and they've had a major fucking crisis mid-shoot.

The USP is this: more and more couples are choosing to have a pet instead of spawn children. Now some pets (especially dogs) are affected by human behaviours (like loud, nasty rows and the like). Ricochet managed to find some animal psychologist who's [new] claim to fame will be suggesting that the wellbeing of the household pet can be directly affected by the potentially dysfunctional sex lives of their owners. [You can see why my previous incumbent bit Ricochet's hand-off - ticks so many fucking popular boxes: sex, couples, pets, crank psychology]

The best fucking thing about the format is the innovative 'DogCam' when the pets are placed in a strategic position within the owner's bedroom so THEY CAN SEE EVERYTHING that the couple are getting up to, hanky panky-style. The pets are also wired up with sensors that lets the animal psychologist analyse how their stress levels are coping when watching their owners debase themselves (in a variety of adventurous positions).

It's fairly close to the edge and I shudder to imagine how this format may have been handled had it been left to some other channels (like Five for example).

The current shoot for episode 3 has, I am told by the tearful Amanda, gone very, very badly wrong. The pet parrot has become obsessed with repeating the words: "Push it in harder, bitch!" whenever the blue-rinse mother-in-law visits. It's now got to the point where the ashamed couple want to pull out of the project completely.

The director is getting icy-cold fucking feet about the whole gig, worrying out loud that she "never trusted the credentials of the psychologist in the first place", and blaming the Corporation's blind determination to sign the series off so hastily. Typical fucking prima donna directors. Pass the fucking buck when the shit hits the fan.

These types of problems really should have been ironed out before the shoot by Elaine Bedell, but her mind must have been on other things at the time (surely she's not messing around with Clarkson again?)

Amanda wants me to draft some kind of concessionary letter that the production team can show to the mother-in-law, outlining the very serious scientific value in exploring the relationship humans have with their pets, and how no-one should be ashamed or embarrassed about the results.

I ring the nervy, stressed director on location, email my incredibly serious and well-meaning Corporation-headed letter over to Ricochet... and voila, the filming is back on within the hour and everyone is back on board! Crisis fucking solved.

Easy really, isn't it?