We know you're sick of reading about what the IOC inspection have been up to over the past few days. For example, the most perilous stage of yesterday's tour was when the special, shiny IOC train was held up for four minutes (yes, four whole minutes) just outside West Ham.
However, we at the Londonist were granted unprecedented access to the inspectors' exhaustive examinations and we feel it's our duty to report the truth to you in all its gory detail.
The inspectors arrive in London under tight security. Sebastian Coe has been especially reanimated for the occasion and his side parting has been measured and angled precisely to meet IOC hairstyle guidelines.
In order to bless the inspector's visit the blood of three virgins and a cockerel is ceremoniously spilled on the tarmac at Heathrow's runway.
The inspecting begins in earnest. The IOC group are taken on a tour of Wimbledon tennis centre where they are made to wear all white and are force fed strawberries until they vomit red sick.
Sebastian Coe is informed that the inspection team numbers thirteen. He immediately deems this to be 'unlucky' and orders Namibian sprinter Frankie Fredericks to be drugged and "hidden away in a cupboard somewhere" until the inspection is over.
In order to demonstrate London's dedication to security, Coe and the other members of the London bid team, including rower Steve Redgrave, fire a variety of semi-automatic weapons into the air over Wembley Stadium.
Dinner with the Queen at Buckingham Palace. Everything goes swimmingly until Prince Philip makes an off-the-cuff remark about how "that Hitler chap had the right idea".
The inspection team is taken to Horse Guards Parade where members of the Queen's Life Guard perform a breakdance routine to the tune of I'd Like to Teach the World to Sing by the New Seekers.
Sebastian Coe boasts that that the newly installed transport system will be able to "move people from the centre of London to the Olympic parks in seven minutes". Moroccan gold medal winner Nawal El Moutawakel can be clearly seen stroking her chin and muttering "Yeah, chinny reckon".
To Stratford to see the main Olympic site. Seb Coe has to be repeatedly informed by members of the IOC that the computer-generated imagery of key venues and transport hubs is not "really real". On hearing this Coe breaks down and begins to weep uncontrollably.
With Coe institutionalised the IOC are left to wander the streets of London unchaperoned. They soon discover that not all Londoners have side partings and that litter and graffiti and distressed denim does exist in the capital. When one member of the team goes missing in a Soho backstreet the IOC commission is hurriedly airlifted out of the city by a crack team of men who write books about when they used to be in the SAS.
Within an hour they are safe on a private jet to New York...but how long will it be before someone notices the hooded figure of Ken Livingstone on the wing of the plane, maniacally tearing out the plane's landing system with his teeth?