The show remembered tomorrow was Magnus Carlson Day
Listeners were already warning Scott not to forget one of the programme’s strangest Christmas traditions.
The following day would be exactly a week and a day before Christmas.
That meant only one song mattered:
Magnus Carlson’s *Wrap Myself in Paper*.
Scott had tried to quietly retire the tradition in previous years.
Listeners had refused.
The song’s central promise — that Magnus had no present, so would wrap himself in paper instead — had become part of the show’s calendar.
Chris reminded Scott that one of his earliest jobs on the programme had involved being wrapped up, put in a box and sent to Tinie Tempah.
For once, wrapping a person in paper had genuine show history behind it.
The Who-Vent Calendar returned to Fyre Festival
Door 16 reopened the extraordinary Andy King moment from the *Fyre* documentary.
King had been asked to “take one for the team” in increasingly notorious circumstances while trying to save the doomed festival.
Scott and Chris had later tracked him down during Lolathon, the show’s marathon Comic Relief fundraiser.
That triggered a nostalgic conversation about the event itself.
It had run well beyond 24 hours.
David Beckham had appeared.
Comedians and celebrities drifted in and out.
Scott had gone to Downing Street to tell a knock-knock joke.
The team had even recreated “a horse walks into a bar” by literally walking a horse into a bar.
Could Lolathon come back?
The pair were suddenly enthusiastic about doing something similar again.
After a year when normal events had disappeared, a long ridiculous charity broadcast felt like exactly the sort of thing which might cheer people up.
Listeners agreed.
One remembered staying with the entire show.
Another recalled how loose the programme became late at night as tiredness removed everybody’s filters.
Chris suggested the next version could include a late-night Granny Tinder containing profiles far too inappropriate for daytime Radio 1.
The idea was immediately popular.
Granny Tinder found a useful man in a pandemic
Lynette then returned for the normal daytime version.
First came Liam, a 24-year-old member of cabin crew.
His profile mentioned paella, adventures and a “landing strip”.
Lynette initially liked him.
Scott then started warning her about the reputation cabin crew had developed through stories told on the programme.
She nearly changed her mind before eventually allowing a right swipe.
Next was Charlie, 27, an immunologist.
His bio promised he dealt with viruses every day and was always willing to “give you a shot”.
In December 2020, working in immunology suddenly sounded like the most useful possible profession.
Lynette approved.
A drummer was too crude
Jack, 22, was a drummer.
His bio promised good rhythm and said he would love to “bang on your drums”.
Lynette instantly disliked the innuendo.
He was out.
The great strength of Granny Tinder remained that an app user could spend hours constructing a profile and one grandmother could destroy it in seconds.
Racehorse or Drag Queen went festive
Don’t Look It Up returned with Racehorse or Drag Queen, alongside a round on television Christmas specials.
The show was now fully in its end-of-year state.
Almost every ordinary feature had acquired either tinsel, a nostalgia element or both.
And somewhere in Sweden, Magnus Carlson Day was less than 24 hours away.
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