THE theme of today's Sunday sermon: heroes for our time. Step forward Marie Benoliel, the French comedian who caused a stir last week when she gate-crashed a major fashion show in Paris.

Benoliel – who specialises in provocateur YouTube pranks under the moniker Marie S'Infiltre – made a dash from the crowd, clambered on to the catwalk, before hiding in plain sight among the models who were showcasing Chanel's Spring-Summer 2020 collection.

Dressed in a natty black-and-white, houndstooth tweed suit, her fancy hat cocked at a jaunty angle, Benoliel boldly strutted across a set that had been designed to look like Parisian rooftops, complete with skylight windows and chimney pots.

It was a move straight from the playbook of fellow comedian Sacha Baron Cohen, who in character as the flamboyant Austrian fashion reporter Bruno, was arrested after he stormed the runway during a Milan fashion show in 2008 mimicking an over-dressed clothes horse.

One of the best parts about Benoliel's homage to Bruno (although she probably doesn't call it that) was the footage captured by those in the audience, showing baffled security guards struggling to figure out which of the "models" was, in fact, not a model.

Sadly, her fleet-footed fashion flight of fancy was all too short-lived. Supermodel Gigi Hadid, who was walking for Chanel in the show, decided to take matters into her own hands and moved swiftly to curtail the shenanigans.

An unamused Hadid blocked Benoliel's path before escorting the interloper off the stage. Yikes. Who needs the fashion police when you have Hadid?

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Admit it. We've all fancied pulling a stunt like Benoliel. Except in my case it would be working on the till at Aldi or Lidl, scanning items like an octopus on amphetamines, before dispatching the customer to the big shelf by the window with a shopping trolley of jumbled groceries.

Ding. "Till number 4 is now opening". Cue me sitting there, with a grin like Michael Keaton in Beetlejuice, proclaiming: "It's showtime!" as the fluorescent strip light above my head flickers to create the strobing effect of lightning.

Accidental hero

IF you need a unicorn chaser – a little sorbet for the soul – this story should do the trick: a nine-year-old boy in Minnesota entered a 5km race and ended up winning the 10km event.

I don't know about you, but that's up there with videos of sweet-yet-unlikely animal friendships. Although seeing a coffee being snatched from the hands of Prime Minister Boris Johnson as an aide hissed "No. Disposable. Cups ..." also brought a smile to my face in recent days.

Budding runner Kade Lovell was taking part in the St Francis Franny Flyer 5k and when he failed to finish within the expected time, his mother Heather began to worry. She rounded up a search party, unbeknown to her what was happening out on the course.

As Kade had turned towards the 5k finish line, he was accidentally directed onto the 10k course where the youngster ended up outrunning all the adults.

When race organisers told Heather that her son had won, she initially thought they meant for his age group. But, nope, he was first overall. Kade crossed the line in just over 48 minutes – a minute faster than the 40-year-old second-place finisher.

Reports that the PM's adviser Dominic Cummings was spotted out on the course dressed in his favoured Tory party conference attire of a grey Adidas tracksuit top – exuding the air of Gollum from Lord of the Rings masquerading as a member of Oasis in their 1990s heyday – remain as yet unconfirmed.

Alpine thriller

ADMITTEDLY I'm going off-piste with this next hero but hear me out: Theresa May. The former Prime Minister has revealed she has no plans – currently, at least – to pen her memoirs and would rather write a novel based on the ill-fated, 19th-century ascent of Matterhorn.

You have no idea how much it pleases me to hear that we don't have to endure the autobiography of another erstwhile incumbent of 10 Downing Street. Larry, the cat? Now there's a memoir worth reading. The Maybot's Last Stand? No thanks.

The Matterhorn expedition is an interesting choice of subject matter. Dark rumours persist surrounding the circumstances in which four of the climbing party fell to their deaths in 1865.

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Does May feel an affinity with mountaineer Edward Whymper, a man who failed seven times to conquer its peak? Is it an analogy for her time in power? To be fair, she does know a fair bit about what it feels like to plummet to your doom.

Perhaps May can branch out into the horror genre next. Like the one about the golden-haired, petulant man-child who uses churlish phrases like "level up" and "surrender act" yet has somehow found himself running the country. Chilling.