Donal Mullofkintyre — Man of a thousand faces

My name's Donal Mullofkintyre, and I'm a BBC reporter. I was recently approached by the editors of The Rockall Times, who were interested in sharing with readers the incredible secrets of my undercover life.

I readily agreed to open my amazing scrapbook to the world. The following selection of pictures pay homage to the skills of the BBC make-up and costume departments, without which few of my investigations would ever have come to fruition. Here are some of my favourites:

A still from my infiltration of the Caribbean beauty pageant circuit, during which I revealed to an astonished world that few, if any, of the contestants really wanted to travel the world and make people happy. Not many of them liked animals, either, despite what they said during the evening wear interview round.

Here's me competing in Miss St Lucia. Incredibly, I came third. I'm still getting sued over that.

Fantastic work by the costume department for my nail-biting exposé of organised football violence among members of the SS Sonderkommando during the Russian campaign of 1943-44. This picture was taken by one of the team during a match between General Paulus' Panzer Rovers and Stalingrad FC.

A lovely snap of me taken for the cover of The Radio Times. No less than 10,000 sequins went into this lavish gown as I prepared to infiltrate the twilight world of bare-knuckle ballroom dancing. That head-dress alone weighed 23 pounds, even without the fruit!

This is more like it — me dispensing instant TV justice in Thailand's "Golden Triangle". I should have been looking at the target, though, rather than admiring myself in the monitor. We hope that the rather unfortunate villagers on the receiving end of this hail of lead will accept an out-of-court settlement sometime soon.

By far the biggest technical challenge was when surgeons transplanted my head onto the body of a Labrador. The result was as spectacular as it was convincing, although I don't think it had anything to do with what we were investigating at the time. I do remember getting fleas, which is just one of the incredible hardships we undercover reporters have to suffer.

But what about the real me? Well, here I am in my weekend "civvies". I get so little time to relax between ground-breaking documentaries and breakfast television appearances, that it's always nice to chill out in something casual.

Thanks for letting me share my memories with you. Remember — the next time you chat up an slim and attractive blonde in a Soho lap-dancing club, it'll probably be me!