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Spirit Academy is my search for the UK's next psychic superstar. Thousands of gifted hopefuls fought for just eight places in my academy. The winners are getting some top notch psychic training - all under the guidance of little old me.

Studying at my Academy isn't a walk in the park. As my students' paranormal skills develop, I'll be eliminating them one by one, leaving a single outright winner.

It's the THIRD WEEK of term, and I have detected the presence of Evil Spirit. You may remember that my Academy is a disused mental asylum, and there's plenty of horrid tales from its demented past.

Take, for instance, little Lord Tamlin Woolton, a man what was incarcerated here because of his habit of defecating here, there and everywhere. (Well, in those days they didn't know what IBS was. Now they have a name for it: Irritable Bowel Syndrome.)

The evil Warden was jealous of Tamlin's relationship with the nurse, and took revenge by killing Tamlin's only friend, a little weevil. Tamlin responded by killing him and fifteen others. The murder weapon? His own excrement.

There may be no official records of this tragic little history, but I know it's true. And to prove it, this week I'll be contacting Tamlin in a seance, then taking my apprentices into to the depths of the asylum for a ghost hunt.

Derek Acorah, eat your heart out.