The Armstrong And Miller Show (2007) s01e02 Episode Script
Episode 2
1 MUSIC STARTS UPPER-CRUST ACCENT: Lucinda felt it would be tragic to miss Ascot, particularly with Kipper's horses running, so we've decided to postpone Antigua until after the polo.
We've actually got Lopez and his crowd staying that weekend, so, er Sorry, old chap, um Have you got the time? Oh, just gone seven.
Do excuse me.
IN A REGIONAL ACCENT: You're watching Channel 4.
And now, time for the news with Jon Sno-o-w.
LAUGHTER DROWNS OUT SPEECH Whoa ho ho! Give it! Whoa ho ho ho! DUCKS QUACK Gotcha! Have you been having lessons? You must've been.
That was brilliant.
Anyway, champ, let's get you an ice cream and then I'd better get you back home to your mum's.
Aah! Dad? Yes, me old Wayne Rooney.
Why did Granny have to die? Well, when we get old our bodies become less able to deal with things.
And when anyone drinks as much as Granny put away, it's always touch and go.
You know how she always had those Murray Mints that you liked? That's because Granny thought if her breath smelt all minty fresh, then no-one would notice she could hardly stand up straight and that she sometimes forgot to put her skirt on.
You know how fun Granny always was with her dancing and her songs and her funny voices? Well, that was alcoholic dementia.
And then one morning, she drank very nearly an imperial gallon of Tia Maria and her poor, little, old liver just gave up the ghost.
If we'd cremated her, she'd have burnt with a blue flame like a big Christmas pudding.
Right, chocolate or strawberry? MUSIC PLAYS ON THE RADIO I'm sorry, I was just wondering when the shower might be operational? FOREIGN ACCENT: Yes, please? Oh, umwhen will YOU put in shower unit? Um, I ask Tennick.
He is best plumber in all, from whole Poland.
But his England speaks not so happy.
Er, Tennick, gdansk litvinenko walensa solidarnosc shower unit bushtatenko? Um, Rula Lenska.
Mm, yes, he says, "Today we make much shower unit.
Tomorrow is finish".
Oh, tomorrow! That's wonderful.
Yeah, we are Poles.
We work until we die! We send our money always back for big, big families in Poland.
You are good English woman.
Mwah, mwah! My wife, she call our baby girl after you, "Mrs Lewis," eh! Mrs Lewis! Eeeeh! Hey-hey! # Diddle lud diddle lud diddle lud Hi! Hi! Hi!Hi! Diddle lud diddle lud diddle lud Mrs Lewis! Yay! Carry on.
# Diddle lud diddle lud diddle lud, diddle lud # can't keep this up much longer! How else are we gonna find work? I find it richly ironic that he should raise the issue of education.
Under the previous government, school standards fell to their lowest point since 1947.
Hear, hear! Hear, hear! Pass rates were down, teachers were paid a pittance and his department alone spent £4 billion of the taxpayers' money on a failing system.
Yaaa! Hear, hear! Hear, hear! I would suggest the honourable gentleman has not done his homework on this one.
I would not be at all surprised if come the next election the British public sends him to bed without any supper! I'm wearing my wife's knickers.
APPLAUSE Good evening and welcome to this week's edition of How Many Hats? On our panel this week, prince of the pop world Ricky Stone.
Hello.
Writer and broadcaster and magistrate Lady Margaret Boulding.
Good evening.
The inimitable Sir Geoffrey Whiting.
No! And making his How Many Hats? debut, humorist and scriptwriter Benjamin Graham.
Hello there.
Without any further ado, please welcome our first How Many Hats? contestant.
APPLAUSE You are Mrs Alfred Daley of St Albans? Yes, I am.
Panel, she's all yours.
How many hats is Mrs Daley wearing? Ricky, you begin.
Is the number of hats you're wearing an odd number? APPLAUSE Good start.
Lady Margaret.
Is the number of hats you're wearing a two-digit number? No, it isn't.
Oh.
Sorry, Lady Margaret.
That's one to us.
Sir Geoffrey.
Is the number of hats you're wearing, perchancea prime number? APPLAUSE That's interesting.
Benjamin, your hat witness.
Isn't she, um I mean, isn't it obvious? I mean Right, umis the number of hats you're wearing, three hats? It's back with you, Ricky.
Um, if I multiply the number of hats you're wearing by seven, would I She's wearing three hats! It's obvious.
We can see it.
She's got three hats on.
You've got three hats on, haven't you? Well, it looks like Ben has rumbled you, Mrs Daley.
Are you wearing three hats? Yes, I am! Good start, panel.
That's one to you.
Thank you very much, Mrs Alfred Daley of St Albans.
Our regards to your husband.
Let's see if our next contestant can fox you.
Please welcome Mr Cyril Jacobs.
APPLAUSE One hat! No! He's wearing one hat! I will not be silenced! One hat! Well, we appear to be having some temporary problems with tonight's transmission of How Many Hats? Until we can return you to it, here's a picture of Princess Margaret.
One, two, three, four impacted How's the family, all well? Yah.
.
.
Five, six, seven missing.
You know, my youngest said something the other day.
We're all sitting round the dinner table, kids, me, wife, wife's mother.
.
.
Eight, nine, ten rotated.
My youngest says to Granny, "I can now point my willy in the toilet".
Laughter all round, obviously.
.
.
11, 12, 13.
Granny smiles and says, "Well done".
So he follows this up with, "Daddy can point his willy in the toilet, too".
More laughter.
So then he says, "But Daddy's willy is furry".
Well, that one went down like a lead balloon.
.
.
14, 15, 16 missing.
You know, suddenly everyone's thinking about Daddy's furry willy.
.
.
17, 18 extruding.
There it is, hanging metaphorically before their faces.
Daddy's big, furry willy.
Blahthere it is.
Wobble-obble-obble.
Of course, the irony is, it's not actually that furry.
I have a rare form of pubic alopecia.
Apparently, it looks like a Chinaman's beard down there.
Oh, you've got a bit of saliva on your chin.
Oi! Excuse me, would you pick that up, please? Look, there's a bin right here.
I'm really sorry about that.
Come on, guys.
Thank you.
I'm wearing my wife's knickers.
TELEVISION: The difficulty with having a breakfast bar in the corner DOORBELL CHIMES .
.
A young couple looking to buy the house might not want to put the bar there.
So my advice would be to keep things open, pretty much creating an open pallet for potential buyers Dimitri.
RUSSIAN ACCENT: Why are you disturbing me, Tony, on a Wednesday? It is PROPERTY LADDER NIGHT!!! You said to come over and talk about the team.
It's just my little joke, Tony.
Of course.
I knew you were coming.
MAN'S VOICE: Oh, oh, please! Please, no!! What's that? It's my wife.
She's ironing.
No! No, no, no! She doesn't like chores.
O'Connor hasn't turned up for training again.
The rumours might be true about him going to Arsenal.
No, no, no, no.
He's knows how much I value loyalty.
You know, now I remember, I think he complained to me about a twisted ankle.
Aaaagh! And a groin injury, I think.
A groin injury?! He never mentioned it to me.
Ow! Possibly a broken thumb.
He's not going to Arsenal.
Ah! Come, Tony, sit, please.
I'm very happy standing.
No, no, no.
Please, sit in my chair.
Oh, thank you.
See, we can watch Property Ladder together.
It's a bit cramped.
I've known worse.
During my time in the navy, I was lieutenant on a submarine in the Baltic when a destroyer cut across our bow, damaging the bulkhead and sending me right down to the bottom of the sea.
I was alone in a sealed chamber for three days with no food and very little oxygen.
Gutted.
The only thing that kept me going, Tony, was my black market cassette of your FA Cup single, Tony Dorset and His Mega-Mix Crew.
We're going to Wembley to win the Cup.
We'll feel all trembly when we hold it up.
As I slipped into unconsciousness, your voice pulled me through.
Can you feel my gratitude, Tony? Help! Is your wife all right? Sounds like she needs help.
You know, I think she's made a bit of a mess.
Please, go with Petr to the double garage.
Under the giant garden jenga you will find two shovels and some heavy duty plastic sheeting.
I'll finish off here with Sarah Beeny.
Sophia's going down with the girls on Thursday.
Well, if I can stay off the sauce on Saturday, I'll drive down that evening with Harry.
Yeah.
Oh, he's much better actually.
Really improving, but Well, that's what the quack says.
You know, horses for courses.
Sorry, Simon, someone's just come into the shop.
Look, if you're not going to buy that, fuck off.
Well, it's the end of the line for UPPER-CRUST ACCENTS: Hello, old man.
Pip, pip.
I brought you some grapes and shit.
Whatever.
I'm allergic to fruit.
I've got this intolerance.
With sweets as well.
It affects my behaviour.
I've got a note and everything.
So you all right then? 'Cause you like crashed your plane, isn't it? In a field.
And you like mashed up your plane and some cows and shit.
You know my legs? Um.
You know how many I've always had and that? Like Like two legs or some shit like that? Yah, I've only got one leg now.
Random.
I know.
You should've seen my face when I woke up.
Were you like, "Oh, my God!".
Yah.
I was like, "Oh, my God, no way!" The doctor's going, "We had to take your leg off and all this.
" And I'm like really stressed out and cussing him bad.
You cussed him up? Yah, and he's all like, "Watch your language!" I'm like, "You can't stop me cussing, 'cause I've got a hyper-activity disorder.
" You've got a note and everything.
Then he says he'll get me a false leg and stuff.
He was kind and gentle and told me not to worry.
Do you know what I said? "Are you gay?" Yah.
"Are you bent?" I said.
And he's all, "No way.
" And I'm like, "Are you a batty man or something?" He does sound well bent.
Anyway, so then he said I didn't deserve to be looked after and he was going to take my false leg and shove it up my arse.
Well, they do that, isn't it, benders? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it though? Standard.
BIRDS TWITTER Ugh.
I'm wearing wife's knickers.
Lovely picnic set.
That's nice.
MOTHER CONTINUES TO TALK TO DAUGHTER SEXY MUSIC BEGINS What about her? No, Dad, I want this.
Yeah, but she's It's her pocket money, Peter, let her get what she wants.
Come on.
We'll have this, please.
Dinosaur? £10 please.
Thank you very much.
OK Come on.
Um Come on, Peter.
Yeah What do you want to do later? Oh! Left my shoes in the shop.
CAR ENGINE STARTS I hope it's a useful seminar.
The thrilling world of financial systems control.
SEXY MUSIC BEGINS Bye! I thought we'd never get away.
# Raindrops keep falling on my head # And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed # Nothing seems to fit Those raindrops are falling .
.
98, 99, 100.
# Because I'm free Nothing's worrying me # It won't be long # Till happiness steps up to meet me # Raindrops keep falling on my head # But that doesn't mean to say my eyes will soon be turning red # Crying's not for me # 'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining # Because I'm free Nothing's worryingme.
Ohthis has been the happiest day of my life.
You're one very special lady.
And I'm a very lucky man.
I wanted you to have this.
May I? Beautiful.
I want you.
Tonight.
We can't, darling, not yet.
We just can't.
OK, OK! Look, I'll talk to her.
I'll go in and talk to her, OK? Darling? Darling, it's me.
Darling? Darling? There's something I need to tell you.
Oh, hello, darling.
What's going on? What do you mean? I just thought we could have a little bit of a lie down, you know? Before Anna gets back from piano practice.
Oh! Right.
Where are we up to? Moussaka doesn't need lamb in it.
All right.
Dogs commit suicide.
Yeah.
Siamese twins are psychic.
Yeah.
News readers shave their legs to keep cool.
Yeah.
Crisp packets shrink in the oven.
Got it.
I used to be a man.
Happier now? Yes, sir.
Good boy.
You can't blame hip-hop for gun culture.
Thanks.
Headache tablets don't do anything.
Okey-dokey.
Hitler didn't like his nose.
Nothing wrong with it.
Moussaka doesn't need lamb in it.
You're too bloody late, Jackland! I was a priest for many years, but then I had to leave because of certain allegations, which were never proved.
The bishop didn't want to make a fuss and so I agreed to go quietly.
But then I found myself in the outside world and what exactly does a 42-year-old former priest with certain allegations hanging over his head do with the rest of his life? And that's when I decided to be a teacher.
Teaching.
We don't judge, we just hire.
This is fine feasting, is it not, Sir Rodney? Indeed, your lordship.
Ha-ha! Agh! Ha! Ah! Your lordship, know you how this chicken was cooked? I know nothing of its preparation.
Think you it may have involved peanut oil? Or that it may have been prepared in a place where peanuts could have been present? What? It matters not! Yah ha ha! Ha ha ha! Come! Let us all join together in a wassail.
Whey! Ya ha ha! Hmm.
You do not drink, Sir Rodney.
It's just that ale is yeast-based and I have ye yeast intolerance.
I try to avoid mixing the proteins with the old carby-hydrates.
But what care I for such things when there's a wassail to be done.
Wassail! Ha ha ha! Sir Rodney, to your good health! Your good health, my lord! Ha ha ha ha! You are an honoured guest here, Sir Rodney, yet you do not make merry with us.
I make merry! Why, watch me make merry! Ha-ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha I'm sorry.
I'm causing a fuss, aren't I? The last thing I wanted is to spoil anyone's carousing, which is why I took the liberty of preparing a special banquet just for meself.
Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Laa! Naa! Aaah! You can really taste the coriander.
By not accepting my hospitality, Sir Rodney, you do me a grave insult.
I'm sorry.
You're right.
I'm behaving like a perfect old fussy damsel.
Bring me the next dish and I promise I shall gorge meself on't.
Good man! Bring forth the meat! APPLAUSE Ah, my favourite feasting fare.
Ha-ha! Watch as I greedily devour it.
Ha ha! Here Yaa, ha-ha! It's a Braeburn! I'm looking for What's it called? It's got an unusual name.
Is it history green? Something like that.
I know what you're thinking of, historical green.
That's part of their Georgian range.
It's fabulous, fabulous.
Pea green.
A little bit darker than that.
But the best thing about that is D'you know? I know exactly what to do with that.
I've got some fantastic samples.
Great.
Gilts, distressed silvers, all in a Georgian style.
Excuse me.
Sir? If you're not going to buy anything, fuck off.
But wonderfully versatile, as I say.
Yes.
Georgian principles.
Right.
All sorts of things against it.
You've got those, you've got the metal.
What about lighting? Lighting, I'd say the golden rule is no down-lighting at all.
Right.
Off you fuck.
You dance impeccably, Miss Harwood.
You've truly awoken the devil in my imaginings.
And you, Captain Jennings, have stirred something in the region girded by my most intimate undergarments.
Indeed, madam.
And it might interest you that under the restrictions of my pantaloons, there's a protrusion so monstrously tumescent that were you to avail yourself of it, I can guarantee your horse would see no action for a week.
Now I'll let you have ten minutes, but I don't want him getting too tired.
22 years is a long time to be in a coma.
He's going to be feeling very weak.
OK? Hello, Andrew.
Mum? Oh, is it really you, Mum? Yes, it's really me.
How are you? I'm great.
I mean, I'm back from the dead.
Ah! So much I need to find out.
There's so much you need to tell me about the last 22 years.
What's happened since I've been in that coma, Mum? Well, Harry Secombe died.
That was sad.
And Marathons are now called Snickers.
Anyway, I'll leave you now.
You must be tired.
Butdid you say Marathons are now called Snickers? I know, it's a daft name, if you ask me.
It's almost a quarter of a century, I mean Andrew, old son, how are you diddling? I brought you some tea.
I've just been filling him in on everything he missed.
Did you tell him about Snickers? Second thing I mentioned.
I bet that surprised you son.
Snickers! I was sort of wondering about moreLike an Opal Fruit? UmWell, you can't have one.
They're called Starburst now! Really? Yeah, Starburst! Since when? Second quarter of '98.
They just changed the name, just like that? Just like that.
40 years of brand positioning up the Swannee.
Crazy, eh? Tis a bit mad, in't it? Anyway, love, we'll let you get some rest, eh? I'll get your sister to pop by tomorrow, see if she can think of any news we've missed.
Bye-bye.
Ta-ta, son.
Bye.
HE SIGHS Sister?! I was on the books at Rangers for a couple of years, but they decided they didn't want to use me professionally.
So I did personal training for a bit, but apparently I was too aggressive and had very poor people skills.
That was when I thought, "Why not be a PE teacher?" Filled with pent-up rage and want to lash out? Be a PE teacher.
I don't know if any of you are familiar, as we are, with what is known as inter-city travel? That is to say, traversing the length and breadth of this sceptred isle by train.
Splendid way of getting around, although not without its drawbacks.
It's very hard to get a decent cup of tea.
And we're resistant to the charms of the teabag.
Fife prefers to take his own flask.
Indeed.
That way he can top it up with whatever he chooses.
No need to be on licensed premises.
Ho-ho! Nor, indeed, within licensed hours.
No, I'm being unfair on you.
Poor chap suffers terribly with his digestion.
He has what is known as a dyspeptic personality.
I have an angry bowel! Quite so.
And this makes the aforementioned mode of transport a shade inconvenient.
Which is what this next song is all about.
# Now I'm a solid gentleman # As proper as the rest # I'm English through and through from my socks up to my vest # Along with this comes etiquette # Decorum must prevail # Exceptions though are sadly met when travelling by rail # I like a hearty breakfast when alighting on a carriage # But libation and vibration do not make a happy marriage # Our fullness down below that builds and creates pressure # Though in the comfort of your home may afford a certain pleasure # Is an anathema in public where there is no turning back # 'Cause the bloody thing has forced its way # Almost out your crack! # Have you ever had to take a shit on a train? # It really is quite a frightful strain # At first there is the horror of what you might find in the pan # A foul, disgusting mess some other bugger's dumped than ran # You would not think it hard to pull the flush # Until you try yourself and no water from there does gush # And then you know the matronly aunt who stands next in the queue Will think the faecal mountain is entirely down to you.
APPLAUSE AND CHEERING
We've actually got Lopez and his crowd staying that weekend, so, er Sorry, old chap, um Have you got the time? Oh, just gone seven.
Do excuse me.
IN A REGIONAL ACCENT: You're watching Channel 4.
And now, time for the news with Jon Sno-o-w.
LAUGHTER DROWNS OUT SPEECH Whoa ho ho! Give it! Whoa ho ho ho! DUCKS QUACK Gotcha! Have you been having lessons? You must've been.
That was brilliant.
Anyway, champ, let's get you an ice cream and then I'd better get you back home to your mum's.
Aah! Dad? Yes, me old Wayne Rooney.
Why did Granny have to die? Well, when we get old our bodies become less able to deal with things.
And when anyone drinks as much as Granny put away, it's always touch and go.
You know how she always had those Murray Mints that you liked? That's because Granny thought if her breath smelt all minty fresh, then no-one would notice she could hardly stand up straight and that she sometimes forgot to put her skirt on.
You know how fun Granny always was with her dancing and her songs and her funny voices? Well, that was alcoholic dementia.
And then one morning, she drank very nearly an imperial gallon of Tia Maria and her poor, little, old liver just gave up the ghost.
If we'd cremated her, she'd have burnt with a blue flame like a big Christmas pudding.
Right, chocolate or strawberry? MUSIC PLAYS ON THE RADIO I'm sorry, I was just wondering when the shower might be operational? FOREIGN ACCENT: Yes, please? Oh, umwhen will YOU put in shower unit? Um, I ask Tennick.
He is best plumber in all, from whole Poland.
But his England speaks not so happy.
Er, Tennick, gdansk litvinenko walensa solidarnosc shower unit bushtatenko? Um, Rula Lenska.
Mm, yes, he says, "Today we make much shower unit.
Tomorrow is finish".
Oh, tomorrow! That's wonderful.
Yeah, we are Poles.
We work until we die! We send our money always back for big, big families in Poland.
You are good English woman.
Mwah, mwah! My wife, she call our baby girl after you, "Mrs Lewis," eh! Mrs Lewis! Eeeeh! Hey-hey! # Diddle lud diddle lud diddle lud Hi! Hi! Hi!Hi! Diddle lud diddle lud diddle lud Mrs Lewis! Yay! Carry on.
# Diddle lud diddle lud diddle lud, diddle lud # can't keep this up much longer! How else are we gonna find work? I find it richly ironic that he should raise the issue of education.
Under the previous government, school standards fell to their lowest point since 1947.
Hear, hear! Hear, hear! Pass rates were down, teachers were paid a pittance and his department alone spent £4 billion of the taxpayers' money on a failing system.
Yaaa! Hear, hear! Hear, hear! I would suggest the honourable gentleman has not done his homework on this one.
I would not be at all surprised if come the next election the British public sends him to bed without any supper! I'm wearing my wife's knickers.
APPLAUSE Good evening and welcome to this week's edition of How Many Hats? On our panel this week, prince of the pop world Ricky Stone.
Hello.
Writer and broadcaster and magistrate Lady Margaret Boulding.
Good evening.
The inimitable Sir Geoffrey Whiting.
No! And making his How Many Hats? debut, humorist and scriptwriter Benjamin Graham.
Hello there.
Without any further ado, please welcome our first How Many Hats? contestant.
APPLAUSE You are Mrs Alfred Daley of St Albans? Yes, I am.
Panel, she's all yours.
How many hats is Mrs Daley wearing? Ricky, you begin.
Is the number of hats you're wearing an odd number? APPLAUSE Good start.
Lady Margaret.
Is the number of hats you're wearing a two-digit number? No, it isn't.
Oh.
Sorry, Lady Margaret.
That's one to us.
Sir Geoffrey.
Is the number of hats you're wearing, perchancea prime number? APPLAUSE That's interesting.
Benjamin, your hat witness.
Isn't she, um I mean, isn't it obvious? I mean Right, umis the number of hats you're wearing, three hats? It's back with you, Ricky.
Um, if I multiply the number of hats you're wearing by seven, would I She's wearing three hats! It's obvious.
We can see it.
She's got three hats on.
You've got three hats on, haven't you? Well, it looks like Ben has rumbled you, Mrs Daley.
Are you wearing three hats? Yes, I am! Good start, panel.
That's one to you.
Thank you very much, Mrs Alfred Daley of St Albans.
Our regards to your husband.
Let's see if our next contestant can fox you.
Please welcome Mr Cyril Jacobs.
APPLAUSE One hat! No! He's wearing one hat! I will not be silenced! One hat! Well, we appear to be having some temporary problems with tonight's transmission of How Many Hats? Until we can return you to it, here's a picture of Princess Margaret.
One, two, three, four impacted How's the family, all well? Yah.
.
.
Five, six, seven missing.
You know, my youngest said something the other day.
We're all sitting round the dinner table, kids, me, wife, wife's mother.
.
.
Eight, nine, ten rotated.
My youngest says to Granny, "I can now point my willy in the toilet".
Laughter all round, obviously.
.
.
11, 12, 13.
Granny smiles and says, "Well done".
So he follows this up with, "Daddy can point his willy in the toilet, too".
More laughter.
So then he says, "But Daddy's willy is furry".
Well, that one went down like a lead balloon.
.
.
14, 15, 16 missing.
You know, suddenly everyone's thinking about Daddy's furry willy.
.
.
17, 18 extruding.
There it is, hanging metaphorically before their faces.
Daddy's big, furry willy.
Blahthere it is.
Wobble-obble-obble.
Of course, the irony is, it's not actually that furry.
I have a rare form of pubic alopecia.
Apparently, it looks like a Chinaman's beard down there.
Oh, you've got a bit of saliva on your chin.
Oi! Excuse me, would you pick that up, please? Look, there's a bin right here.
I'm really sorry about that.
Come on, guys.
Thank you.
I'm wearing my wife's knickers.
TELEVISION: The difficulty with having a breakfast bar in the corner DOORBELL CHIMES .
.
A young couple looking to buy the house might not want to put the bar there.
So my advice would be to keep things open, pretty much creating an open pallet for potential buyers Dimitri.
RUSSIAN ACCENT: Why are you disturbing me, Tony, on a Wednesday? It is PROPERTY LADDER NIGHT!!! You said to come over and talk about the team.
It's just my little joke, Tony.
Of course.
I knew you were coming.
MAN'S VOICE: Oh, oh, please! Please, no!! What's that? It's my wife.
She's ironing.
No! No, no, no! She doesn't like chores.
O'Connor hasn't turned up for training again.
The rumours might be true about him going to Arsenal.
No, no, no, no.
He's knows how much I value loyalty.
You know, now I remember, I think he complained to me about a twisted ankle.
Aaaagh! And a groin injury, I think.
A groin injury?! He never mentioned it to me.
Ow! Possibly a broken thumb.
He's not going to Arsenal.
Ah! Come, Tony, sit, please.
I'm very happy standing.
No, no, no.
Please, sit in my chair.
Oh, thank you.
See, we can watch Property Ladder together.
It's a bit cramped.
I've known worse.
During my time in the navy, I was lieutenant on a submarine in the Baltic when a destroyer cut across our bow, damaging the bulkhead and sending me right down to the bottom of the sea.
I was alone in a sealed chamber for three days with no food and very little oxygen.
Gutted.
The only thing that kept me going, Tony, was my black market cassette of your FA Cup single, Tony Dorset and His Mega-Mix Crew.
We're going to Wembley to win the Cup.
We'll feel all trembly when we hold it up.
As I slipped into unconsciousness, your voice pulled me through.
Can you feel my gratitude, Tony? Help! Is your wife all right? Sounds like she needs help.
You know, I think she's made a bit of a mess.
Please, go with Petr to the double garage.
Under the giant garden jenga you will find two shovels and some heavy duty plastic sheeting.
I'll finish off here with Sarah Beeny.
Sophia's going down with the girls on Thursday.
Well, if I can stay off the sauce on Saturday, I'll drive down that evening with Harry.
Yeah.
Oh, he's much better actually.
Really improving, but Well, that's what the quack says.
You know, horses for courses.
Sorry, Simon, someone's just come into the shop.
Look, if you're not going to buy that, fuck off.
Well, it's the end of the line for UPPER-CRUST ACCENTS: Hello, old man.
Pip, pip.
I brought you some grapes and shit.
Whatever.
I'm allergic to fruit.
I've got this intolerance.
With sweets as well.
It affects my behaviour.
I've got a note and everything.
So you all right then? 'Cause you like crashed your plane, isn't it? In a field.
And you like mashed up your plane and some cows and shit.
You know my legs? Um.
You know how many I've always had and that? Like Like two legs or some shit like that? Yah, I've only got one leg now.
Random.
I know.
You should've seen my face when I woke up.
Were you like, "Oh, my God!".
Yah.
I was like, "Oh, my God, no way!" The doctor's going, "We had to take your leg off and all this.
" And I'm like really stressed out and cussing him bad.
You cussed him up? Yah, and he's all like, "Watch your language!" I'm like, "You can't stop me cussing, 'cause I've got a hyper-activity disorder.
" You've got a note and everything.
Then he says he'll get me a false leg and stuff.
He was kind and gentle and told me not to worry.
Do you know what I said? "Are you gay?" Yah.
"Are you bent?" I said.
And he's all, "No way.
" And I'm like, "Are you a batty man or something?" He does sound well bent.
Anyway, so then he said I didn't deserve to be looked after and he was going to take my false leg and shove it up my arse.
Well, they do that, isn't it, benders? Isn't it? Isn't it? Isn't it though? Standard.
BIRDS TWITTER Ugh.
I'm wearing wife's knickers.
Lovely picnic set.
That's nice.
MOTHER CONTINUES TO TALK TO DAUGHTER SEXY MUSIC BEGINS What about her? No, Dad, I want this.
Yeah, but she's It's her pocket money, Peter, let her get what she wants.
Come on.
We'll have this, please.
Dinosaur? £10 please.
Thank you very much.
OK Come on.
Um Come on, Peter.
Yeah What do you want to do later? Oh! Left my shoes in the shop.
CAR ENGINE STARTS I hope it's a useful seminar.
The thrilling world of financial systems control.
SEXY MUSIC BEGINS Bye! I thought we'd never get away.
# Raindrops keep falling on my head # And just like the guy whose feet are too big for his bed # Nothing seems to fit Those raindrops are falling .
.
98, 99, 100.
# Because I'm free Nothing's worrying me # It won't be long # Till happiness steps up to meet me # Raindrops keep falling on my head # But that doesn't mean to say my eyes will soon be turning red # Crying's not for me # 'Cause I'm never gonna stop the rain by complaining # Because I'm free Nothing's worryingme.
Ohthis has been the happiest day of my life.
You're one very special lady.
And I'm a very lucky man.
I wanted you to have this.
May I? Beautiful.
I want you.
Tonight.
We can't, darling, not yet.
We just can't.
OK, OK! Look, I'll talk to her.
I'll go in and talk to her, OK? Darling? Darling, it's me.
Darling? Darling? There's something I need to tell you.
Oh, hello, darling.
What's going on? What do you mean? I just thought we could have a little bit of a lie down, you know? Before Anna gets back from piano practice.
Oh! Right.
Where are we up to? Moussaka doesn't need lamb in it.
All right.
Dogs commit suicide.
Yeah.
Siamese twins are psychic.
Yeah.
News readers shave their legs to keep cool.
Yeah.
Crisp packets shrink in the oven.
Got it.
I used to be a man.
Happier now? Yes, sir.
Good boy.
You can't blame hip-hop for gun culture.
Thanks.
Headache tablets don't do anything.
Okey-dokey.
Hitler didn't like his nose.
Nothing wrong with it.
Moussaka doesn't need lamb in it.
You're too bloody late, Jackland! I was a priest for many years, but then I had to leave because of certain allegations, which were never proved.
The bishop didn't want to make a fuss and so I agreed to go quietly.
But then I found myself in the outside world and what exactly does a 42-year-old former priest with certain allegations hanging over his head do with the rest of his life? And that's when I decided to be a teacher.
Teaching.
We don't judge, we just hire.
This is fine feasting, is it not, Sir Rodney? Indeed, your lordship.
Ha-ha! Agh! Ha! Ah! Your lordship, know you how this chicken was cooked? I know nothing of its preparation.
Think you it may have involved peanut oil? Or that it may have been prepared in a place where peanuts could have been present? What? It matters not! Yah ha ha! Ha ha ha! Come! Let us all join together in a wassail.
Whey! Ya ha ha! Hmm.
You do not drink, Sir Rodney.
It's just that ale is yeast-based and I have ye yeast intolerance.
I try to avoid mixing the proteins with the old carby-hydrates.
But what care I for such things when there's a wassail to be done.
Wassail! Ha ha ha! Sir Rodney, to your good health! Your good health, my lord! Ha ha ha ha! You are an honoured guest here, Sir Rodney, yet you do not make merry with us.
I make merry! Why, watch me make merry! Ha-ha! Ha ha! Ha ha ha! Ha I'm sorry.
I'm causing a fuss, aren't I? The last thing I wanted is to spoil anyone's carousing, which is why I took the liberty of preparing a special banquet just for meself.
Ha-ha! Ha-ha! Laa! Naa! Aaah! You can really taste the coriander.
By not accepting my hospitality, Sir Rodney, you do me a grave insult.
I'm sorry.
You're right.
I'm behaving like a perfect old fussy damsel.
Bring me the next dish and I promise I shall gorge meself on't.
Good man! Bring forth the meat! APPLAUSE Ah, my favourite feasting fare.
Ha-ha! Watch as I greedily devour it.
Ha ha! Here Yaa, ha-ha! It's a Braeburn! I'm looking for What's it called? It's got an unusual name.
Is it history green? Something like that.
I know what you're thinking of, historical green.
That's part of their Georgian range.
It's fabulous, fabulous.
Pea green.
A little bit darker than that.
But the best thing about that is D'you know? I know exactly what to do with that.
I've got some fantastic samples.
Great.
Gilts, distressed silvers, all in a Georgian style.
Excuse me.
Sir? If you're not going to buy anything, fuck off.
But wonderfully versatile, as I say.
Yes.
Georgian principles.
Right.
All sorts of things against it.
You've got those, you've got the metal.
What about lighting? Lighting, I'd say the golden rule is no down-lighting at all.
Right.
Off you fuck.
You dance impeccably, Miss Harwood.
You've truly awoken the devil in my imaginings.
And you, Captain Jennings, have stirred something in the region girded by my most intimate undergarments.
Indeed, madam.
And it might interest you that under the restrictions of my pantaloons, there's a protrusion so monstrously tumescent that were you to avail yourself of it, I can guarantee your horse would see no action for a week.
Now I'll let you have ten minutes, but I don't want him getting too tired.
22 years is a long time to be in a coma.
He's going to be feeling very weak.
OK? Hello, Andrew.
Mum? Oh, is it really you, Mum? Yes, it's really me.
How are you? I'm great.
I mean, I'm back from the dead.
Ah! So much I need to find out.
There's so much you need to tell me about the last 22 years.
What's happened since I've been in that coma, Mum? Well, Harry Secombe died.
That was sad.
And Marathons are now called Snickers.
Anyway, I'll leave you now.
You must be tired.
Butdid you say Marathons are now called Snickers? I know, it's a daft name, if you ask me.
It's almost a quarter of a century, I mean Andrew, old son, how are you diddling? I brought you some tea.
I've just been filling him in on everything he missed.
Did you tell him about Snickers? Second thing I mentioned.
I bet that surprised you son.
Snickers! I was sort of wondering about moreLike an Opal Fruit? UmWell, you can't have one.
They're called Starburst now! Really? Yeah, Starburst! Since when? Second quarter of '98.
They just changed the name, just like that? Just like that.
40 years of brand positioning up the Swannee.
Crazy, eh? Tis a bit mad, in't it? Anyway, love, we'll let you get some rest, eh? I'll get your sister to pop by tomorrow, see if she can think of any news we've missed.
Bye-bye.
Ta-ta, son.
Bye.
HE SIGHS Sister?! I was on the books at Rangers for a couple of years, but they decided they didn't want to use me professionally.
So I did personal training for a bit, but apparently I was too aggressive and had very poor people skills.
That was when I thought, "Why not be a PE teacher?" Filled with pent-up rage and want to lash out? Be a PE teacher.
I don't know if any of you are familiar, as we are, with what is known as inter-city travel? That is to say, traversing the length and breadth of this sceptred isle by train.
Splendid way of getting around, although not without its drawbacks.
It's very hard to get a decent cup of tea.
And we're resistant to the charms of the teabag.
Fife prefers to take his own flask.
Indeed.
That way he can top it up with whatever he chooses.
No need to be on licensed premises.
Ho-ho! Nor, indeed, within licensed hours.
No, I'm being unfair on you.
Poor chap suffers terribly with his digestion.
He has what is known as a dyspeptic personality.
I have an angry bowel! Quite so.
And this makes the aforementioned mode of transport a shade inconvenient.
Which is what this next song is all about.
# Now I'm a solid gentleman # As proper as the rest # I'm English through and through from my socks up to my vest # Along with this comes etiquette # Decorum must prevail # Exceptions though are sadly met when travelling by rail # I like a hearty breakfast when alighting on a carriage # But libation and vibration do not make a happy marriage # Our fullness down below that builds and creates pressure # Though in the comfort of your home may afford a certain pleasure # Is an anathema in public where there is no turning back # 'Cause the bloody thing has forced its way # Almost out your crack! # Have you ever had to take a shit on a train? # It really is quite a frightful strain # At first there is the horror of what you might find in the pan # A foul, disgusting mess some other bugger's dumped than ran # You would not think it hard to pull the flush # Until you try yourself and no water from there does gush # And then you know the matronly aunt who stands next in the queue Will think the faecal mountain is entirely down to you.
APPLAUSE AND CHEERING