Piers Morgan should be dressed as a the biker from The Village People, set on fire and loaded into a day-glo trebuchet by a team of scantily-clad cheer-leaders. Then he should be hurled into the air to arc beautifully through a series of five giant Olympic hoops, a red white & blue smoke trail being emitted behind him, before a remotely-triggered explosive attached to his backside shatters him into a million incandescent sparks. The gently falling sparks flutter down like fireflies in the night, eventually igniting the torch below. This is the least he owes us.