There's a pause. Then, as we teeter on the edge of our seats eating our knuckles, she goes again.

“We've had some highs of 24 degrees,” she's almost screeching now.

It's tense. This veteran purveyor of straight-laced weather news is caught in the grip of lolz that's relentless, unexpected and almost too much to endure. For her and the viewer.

In keeping with the Jekyll and Hyde nature of the entire glorious spectacle, suddenly, like nothing has happened, she launches briskly into the rest of her forecast. “So, that's 75 fahrenheit,” she says firmly.

Lear's confidence gathers pace and she's pointing defiantly at the camera now. “Let's move back to this area of low pressure,” she commands. Yasss. The boss is back.

Oh... no. That area of low pressure in the north-west triggers something in Lear and it all comes tumbling down again. She's wracked with frustration and we're beginning to wonder how long this weather broadcast can possibly go on.

It being the Beeb, there are no ad breaks to cut to.

Finally, 58 seconds into her broadcast, Lear gets back on track.

See for yourself:

When live TV cracks up: Louise Lear and the curse of corpsing