There are clearly plenty of ways to mess up a sitcom and far fewer ways to make a classic. Horgan knows about the subject too, having created the cult BBC Three hit Pulling and Five’s forthcoming Angelo’s. “The secret is when something is heavily auteured, when it is written and directed by people who care about it and share a vision and don’t let anybody else s*** on it. And when the channel trusts you and lets you get on with it, like with The Office. But then I could be wrong.”

Sitcoms are the biggest of telly gambles. Concoct a winner and you have beaten the bank. “They are a really high creative risk,” Newman adds. “Good ones strike a chord with the audience and will be watched again and again. Whether it is Father Dougal learning about perspective or Del Boy falling through the bar, they are things that you will love and cherish and be among your favourite TV moments of all time.”

Get it wrong, however, and Newman thinks you’d better leave town. “People have a low tolerance of sitcoms that don’t make them laugh in a way that people won’t be personally offended if you make a bad property show.

“There is also the trifling matter of financial roulette — a Channel 4 sitcom might cost £300,000 an episode, nearly double the cost of a panel show.”

An indication of the enduring power of sitcoms is that only the other week someone in the street shouted “Dan!” at Mangan, even though this was the name of a minor character he played in I’m Alan Partridge half a decade ago. Sitcoms clearly get under people’s skin, even under the skin of the people in them, such as Mangan. “I got married earlier this year, and rather than naming the tables 1, 2, 3, 4, we named them after sitcoms. The top table was Till Death Us Do Part, others were Keeping Up Appearances, George & Mildred . . .”

It is time for another take. Mangan returns to the table, where a fake waiter pours another fake champagne. Creating the perfect sitcom? It’s enough to drive you to drink. Well, fizzy lemonade.