As the newspaper editor in John Ford's The Man Who Shot Liberty Valance put it: "When the legend becomes fact, print the legend."
The legend of Freddie Starr was that he ate a hamster.
The fact was he didn't, but The Sun printed the legend in a famous front-page headline anyway.
Freddie did, however, eat a camel toe on I'm a Celebrity, was carted off to hospital suffering from a severe allergic reaction and has now been permanently removed from the series on doctors' advice.
But he made a brief return last night to tell Ant and Dec how he was doing. "You're looking great," one of them lied.
Freddie looked like death. Pale as a sheet with eyes as red as raspberries, he appeared to have been dipped in bleach, which made him resemble Beetlejuice's fatter brother.
Freddie was always the best bet to stir up some trouble in the I'm a Celebrity Camp, so who can we turn to for a bit of aggro now that he's gone? Step forward Fatima Whitbread, famous for being an Olympic champion javelin thrower and the spitting image of The Incredible Hulk's twin sister.
Fatima moans about everything, anything and nothing. Incessantly. You never know what's going to trigger her. The way someone looks at her. The way someone doesn't look at her. The position of the moon in the sky. The shape of a leaf.
Maddeningly, she does in a lazy, irritating, passive-aggressive monotone. "You're being passive-aggressive," Antony Cotton told her, prior to bursting into tears. Again. "You're making me do it," droned Fatima. See what I mean?
Her main gripe last night (and there were many of them) was getting a question wrong in a thick little quiz dreamed up by thick Matt Wright from the thick The Only Way Is Essex to amuse his not-quite-as-thick-as-he-is fellow contestants.
It's probably just as well Fatima didn't bring a javelin to the jungle with her. She might well be impaled on it by now, turning slowly over a crackling fire.
But back to Matt Wright. Like I said, he's thick, but he might well just end up winning it. Why? Because the I'm a Celebrity voters have a soft spot for thick. (Remember Kerry Katona and Stacey Solomon?)
Contemplating how tough life in a reality show set in a partly fake jungle can be, Matt mused: "Makes you appreciate what them soldiers are going through for us in places like Afghanistan."
Yes indeed, Matt. Being in I'm a Celebrity really is just being in a war zone. But without, you know, the IEDs and stuff.
Once the BBC has edited out the recaps-for-dummies that follow every interminable ad break in the American version of Who Do You Think You Are?, it's much shorter than its UK counterpart, clocking in at a lean 30 minutes.
This was perfect for the equally lean but incontrovertibly brilliant Steve Buscemi, one of my favourite actors.
Steve climbed his family tree in the hope of finding a character as colourful as the ones he plays on screen -- but only turned up a fairly dull tale about a great-great-grandfather called James Randolph, who was a dentist.
James threw a suicide note tucked inside a bottle into the river, then changed his mind about taking his own life and went off to join the Union Army in the American Civil War.
He deserted but returned after two years to fight in the catastrophic Battle of Fredericksburg.
After that, he deserted again, for good this time.
He abandoned his wife and children -- forcing his 11-year-old daughter (Steve's great-grandmother) to find work as a servant -- quit dentistry to become a grocer and started a new family.
This was all terribly interesting for Steve, who came across as a lovely man, but a bit boring for us.
I think I'll stick to watching him in Boardwalk Empire.
i'm a celebrity . . . get me out of here! HHHII
who do you think you are? HHIII