Before it was hijacked by far-right cretins, the skinhead movement was about ska music, racial harmony and selling Weetabix.

In the decades since, Tony the Tiger and the rabid Coco Pops monkey continued to peddle cereal while the jackbooted Weetabix hard-men faded from memory.

Ignoring the new orthodoxy of 80s nostalgia, Weetabix overdubs live-action animals to plug its new FSA-friendly chocolate-flavoured creation. With more regional accents than a One Show special, the critters' lightning-fast chatter is near-impossible to follow though maybe easier for hyperactive youngsters weaned on the sort of Saturday morning TV that induces photosensitive epilepsy in most adults.

It's irritating, confusing and, with a mangy dog that's positively pining for a one-way trip to the vet, vaguely threatening. Bring back the walking rusks, fascist connotations or not.

More from this column