A tipster writes, "Is this the most beautiful firm of lawyers ever?"

Ugh. Yes, probably. They aren't so much all supermodels as intimidatingly luminous. They look hale and hearty and happy and healthy. The people page for the associates of Norwegian (of course) firm Wiersholm is row after row of tousle-haired, twinkly-eyed chin monsters and women so fresh-faced they make Bear Grylls look in the mirror and sob, "You're lazy. Look how pallid your skin is. You're like Gollum but you don't catch raw fish, do you, you just eat KFC over the bin you're pathetic you SHUT-IN."

But it is depressing, you can feel your back ache and your sagging old face as you look at the Von Trapps' children's children. How much more fun to open a link to twitching freaks or a grade A Glamorous Solicitor instead of these glossy bastards, up at the first low of the elk to wash in glacier milk.

Contact them by all means, reader, but be sure to make email small talk and win their trust before admitting that you want to caress their glowing skin and prod their impossibly glittery eyeballs. Coming right out and typing i love your face let me stroke it ingeborg, that can go badly. We know that now.

It's a mystery how these specimens can be lawyers. Where are their facial sores from hours being gently slapped by monitor radiation? Where are their bags, their creases, their mange, is this photoshop voodoo? How are they so refreshed. Do they work from horseback, riding through dells and copses? Are Norwegian data rooms in picnic hampers by fjords, with swimming competitions and, later, songs? Are all their clients in the kale sector?

These three alone prove that Roger Moore never blew up the Moonraker shuttles, he crashlanded them in Scandinavia and bred.

I mean, sure, there's Troels Leming, but you can tell he's going to grow into that Chuck Norris vibe.

And Einar may look like his dream date is an algorithm, but he's adorable in a Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time kind of way. "3,746!" "What was that?" "Just Einar, I dropped some sand". Martin is either too foul for the eugenicist who runs this Boys & Girls from Brazil website, or, more likely, flawless and his perfection was found to be disquieting to the human eye.

And so we seize on the few imperfections we can find, don't we? We search for the cracks in this edifice of laughter and purity. Like Maiken, who looks like she's being insulted off camera. Crack, Maiken. Crack.